VI. Alfred and the Old English Prose of his Reign.

§ 1. Asser’s Life of Alfred.

THE reign of Alfred acquired its chief glory from the personality of the king. He had many titles to fame. His character was made up of so many diverse elements that he seemed, at one and the same time, to be military leader, lawgiver, scholar and saint, and these elements were so combined that the balance of the whole was never disturbed. In the minds of posterity Alfred lives as the type of an ideal Englishman.

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  In each of the departments of his activity the king’s work was of permanent value. His efforts, though essentially pioneer in character, laid a solid and permanent foundation for the superstructure which was to be raised by his successors. As king, he ruled a portion only of modern England and left much to be completed by his descendants. But the centralising policy which he inaugurated and successfully realised— the policy of making Wessex the nucleus of England’s expansion—alone made possible the growth of an enlarged kingdom. Alfred’s ideals for Wessex reflect a large vision and much practical wisdom, and the reign is as remarkable for its educational as for its political progress. His conceptions were cosmopolitan rather than insular. He never lost sight of the importance of keeping his kingdom in organic relation with European civilisation—a lesson stamped upon his mind ever since, in his early years (856), during the pontificate of one of the greatest of the popes, Leo IV, he had visited Rome and the court of Charles the Bald. This visit made a vivid impression upon Alfred’s mind. His father’s marriage with the emperor’s daughter Judith cemented relationships with the continent and the insularity of Britain was henceforth broken down. The importance for literature of this emergence from isolation cannot be over-estimated. Charles the Great had gathered round him at Aachen a cultured circle of scholars and writers, and had promoted a renascence of classical study, the influence of which was still powerful in the days of Charles the Bald. The illuminated MSS. of the French court of the ninth century—the St. Denis and Metz Bibles, the Psalter and book of Gospels, in particular—are conspicuous examples of artistic skill. After his accession Alfred looked to the Frankish empire for assistance in his task of reviving learning in Wessex. At his request, Grimbald, a monk of St. Bertin in Flanders, and John of Corvey came over to Britain, and were appointed abbots of Winchester and Aethelney respectively. The king diligently promoted scholarship, and himself undertook to translate into West Saxon recognised works in Latin prose. At the same time he increased the number of monasteries and reformed the educational side of these institutions by the introduction of teachers, English and foreign. The story of Grimbald’s visit to Oxford and of the existence there of a community of scholars is, however, not supported by any evidence. The legend was interpolated in an edition of Asser’s Life of Alfred, based on Parker’s text, which Camden published in 1602--3. No MS., or other authority, is known to support Camden’s statement. The consequence of the educational and literary activity of Alfred’s reign was to transfer the centre of learning from Northumbria to Wessex. The monastic communities of Lindisfarne, Evesham and Croyland had fostered scholarship in the north, and, in the seventh century, Whitby had produced Caedmon. In 674 Benedict Biscop had built the monastery of St. Peter at Wearmouth and, in 682, a second house at Jarrow, at both of which large libraries were collected. The arts of glass-making, gold-work and embroidery were introduced from the continent. Northumbria had thus become “the literary centre of western Europe,” producing scholars of the type of Bede, the master of the learning of his day, and Alcuin, the scholarly helper of Charles the Great. But with the appearance of the Danes began the decline of learning in the north. So much did scholarship suffer in consequence of the viking raids that, at the date of Alfred’s accession, there was no scholar even south of the Thames who could read the mass-book in Latin. The revival of letters in Wessex was the direct result of the king’s enthusiasm and personal efforts, and his educational aims recall irresistibly the work of Charles the Great.

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  The authorities for the life of Alfred are many, but of unequal value. His own works, reflecting as they do his personal character and convictions, furnish the most important data, the Chronicle and the Life by Asser ranking next in value. Asser, a Welsh cleric, was, in all probability, educated at St. David’s. He had already been in communication with Alfred regarding the defence of his monastery when he was summoned by the king to assist him in his educational schemes. According to his own account, Asser arranged to stay with Alfred for six months of each year, spending the remaining six in Wales. He became the king’s most intimate friend and diligently assisted him in his study of Latin. He was eventually appointed bishop of Sherborne, and died some ten years after the king. The authenticity of Asser’s book has been much disputed. The unique MS. survives only in charred and illegible fragments, but it is clear from external evidence that Parker’s edition (1574) contains large editorial alterations and interpolations from the Lives of St. Neots.

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Formidable evidence in support of the genuineness of the original Asser has been collected by Stevenson and others. The Welsh and Latin forms and the scriptural quotations point to the early part of the tenth century, and, at the same time, attest the Celtic nationality of the author. The chronology is based on a primitive version of the Chronicle, which the author supplements by details which none but an eye witness could have supplied. The very incompleteness of the book is an argument against its being a forgery. Its abrupt beginning and conclusion, and its awkward combination of extracts from the Chronicle with original matter, may have been due to the choice of Frankish models, such as Einhart’s Life of Charles the Great or Thegan’s Life of Ludwig the Pious. Asser’s book holds a unique position as “the earliest biography of an English layman.” Florence of Worcester is valuable as illustrating the genuine text of Asser, since he ignores what was, apparently, interpolated. The later chroniclers, Simeon of Durham and William of Malmesbury, throw occasional light on incidents in the king’s career, but, on the whole, are responsible for the growth of the Alfred legend.  The chronological order of Alfred’s works is difficult to determine. Depending, as we do, mainly upon internal evidence, there is no absolute test whereby to fix the priority of one work over another. Evidence of style is notoriously untrustworthy. There are, however, a few considerations on the basis of which a general arrangement may be attempted, though scarcely two critics are in entire agreement as to the final order. Of these considerations the most important is ability to reproduce in West Saxon prose the spirit of the Latin original. A comparatively close translation is, in Alfred’s case, a sign of the prentice hand; his latest work is marked by great freedom of rendering and large insertions. Some further light is thrown on the problem by the character of the prefaces to the various books. The chroniclers are of little assistance in the determination of the relative order.

§ 2. The Handbook and Pastoral Care.

The Handbook may safely be considered the earliest of Alfred’s compilations. Unfortunately, no trace of the book is now to be found, though its existence is attested by external evidence. The circumstances under which the formation of the Handbook was begun make it clear that it was essentially a commonplace book of extracts from the Latin Bible and the Fathers. Asser, to whom was due the suggestion that a book of this nature might be of service to the king, describes it as an assemblage of flosculi, culled from various sources. These extracts Alfred wrote down in latin, in the first instance, and, afterwards, began to render them into English. The first entries were made on 11 November, 887, in venerabili Martini solemnitate. William of malmesbury  1  refers to the commonplace book, quem patria lingua handboc (Encheiridion) i.e., manualem librum appellavit. Further, there is in Florence of Worcester’s Chronicle a reference to certain Dicta regis Aelfredi, whereby the Handbook may possibly be meant. There would, however, be no justification for identifying the Dicta with the Handbook, were it not for the fact that Malmesbury uses the latter as an authority for the life of Aldhelm. It is quite conceivable that Alfred inserted among his notes an account of Aldhelm, with whose verses he was probably acquainted.

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  But no importance whatever is to be attached to Florence of Worcester’s suggestion that the Handbook was a record of West Saxon genealogy. It is possible that neither chronicler is to be relied upon in this matter. The formation of the Handbook was of literary importance merely: it afforded Alfred valuable literary training and indirectly stimulated him to try his hand at more extensive translation.

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  The translation of Gregory’s Cura Pastoralis may be considered the first of Alfred’s literary works, properly so called. Grein, Pauli and Bosworth awarded first place to Boethius, but internal evidence is altogether in favour of the priority of the Pastoral Care. The decay of learning consequent upon Danish raids made it imperative that an attempt should be made to revive the education of the clergy. No work of the middle ages seemed better adapted to enlighten the church than Gregory’s treatise, designed to serve as a spiritual guide for the conscience of the priest. In Moralia Gregory had indulged to the full his passion for allegory; Cura Pastoralis is less dominated by the tendency to allegorise, though it contains some gross examples of the practice-the explanation, for example, of Ezekiel’s injunction to the priests not to shave their heads. But the allegorical method of the church reformer does not altogether obscure a vigorous and healthy tone, and this in spite of Gregory’s expressed contempt for the technical side of letters. Cura Pastoralis appealed to Alfred by its spiritual insight; consequently he began to turn into West Saxon “the book called in Latin Pastoralis and in English Hierdeboc, sometimes word for word, sometimes sense for sense.” In so doing he availed himself of the help of his teachers Plegmund and Asser, Grimbald and John, and as he

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understood their explanations he rendered the matter into English.  The preface which gives this particular account of the origin of the Pastoral Care is of great importance in another respect. An earlier passage makes it clear that the present was only the first of a series of books which the king intended to translate, in order that ultimately all the free-born youths of England, who had the necessary leisure, might be instructed in their own tongue. The preface to the Pastoral Care is thus a preface to the whole series of translations. At the same time it ranks among the most important of Alfred’s original contributions to literature. It gives an account of the decay of learning in Britain, and sets forth the king’s determination to reform the schools of Wessex. It defends the use of the vernacular by showing how the Old Testament was written first in Hebrew, then translated into Greek and subsequently into Latin, and how all other Christian nations had turned some portion of ancient literature into their own tongue. From a literary point of view, the preface is the first important piece of prose in English; linguistically, it is, on account of its age, of unique value. A passage in alliterative verse, containing a glowing tribute to Gregory, “Christ’s warrior, the Pope of Rome,” forms a kind of second preface. It closes with a reference to the despatch of a copy to each bishop in the land.

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  The style of the Pastoral Care has just those characteristics which might have been expected in an early work. Alfred’s conception of the translator’s province never limited him to a very close rendering; but, compared with his later work, there are signs of restraints in this effort that suggest inexperience. The double versions and the anacolutha in the text has given rise to the ingenious suggestion that the translation was dictated. A close comparison of the Latin text and the West Saxon version throws further light on the king’s methods. His English audience is always kept in view, and, for their benefit, he inserts brief explanatory notes. Thus, he interprets “Manna” as “the sweet meat which came down from heaven,” “shittim wood” as “the tree which never decays,” “purple” as “the royal robe.” Occasionally he Teutonises the terms of the Latin original by identifying Hebrew institutions and social grades with their nearest analogues in West Saxon civilisation. Plateis he renders by “herestraetum.” David is described as a “salm-sceop,” Uriah as a “thegn.” Blunders are naturally to be met with, as, for example, in the derivation of Sacerdotes--“in English cleansers because they are to act as guides of believers and govern them.” Compared with later translations, Alfred’s Pastoral Care is very close to the original. The style is somewhat Latinised and abounds in pleonasms and repetition, and the translation is remarkable for the number of [Greek] it contains. The copy preserved in the Bodleian is interesting as containing the name of Werferth, and it is the actual copy destined for the Worcester see.

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Note 1. Gesta, Regum Anglorum, II, /??/ 123.

§ 3. Translations of Orosius and Bede.

The relative positions of Orosius and Bede are difficult to determine. For a long period the prior position was assigned to Orosius, but, latterly, there has been a tendency to reverse the order. The argument based on closeness of translation may, in this case, be fallacious, not only from the fact that the Latin of Orosius presents more difficulties than that of Bede, but because, in the latter case, Alfred would have been far less justified in tampering with his original. Bede’s work ranked, in Alfred’s day, as a standard history of the early English church; it was a recognised classic. Much of Orosius, on the other hand, was obviously unsuitable for English readers unversed in the outlines of classical history. The comparative closeness of the translation of Bede does not, therefore, necessarily imply early work. Plummer has pointed out that the account of Caesar’s invasions was omitted in the first recension of Bede--a fact which can only be understood by assuming that Alfred had already treated these events in detail in Orosius

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  The Historia adversus Paganos of Paulus Orosius, a Spanish ecclesiastic, dates from the fifth century and was looked upon as a standard text-book of universal history. Orosius, as a disciple of Augustine, had already given expression to anti-Pelagian views in an earlier work. His later book, likewise due to the inspiration of Augustine,  2  was an attempt to expound the thesis that the decline of the Roman empire was due to other causes than the rise of Christianity and the neglect of pagan deities.

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  Alfred’s interest in the work of Orosius lay chiefly on the historical and geographical sides, though he did not neglect to draw the moral. He aimed at giving to the English people a compendium of universal history and geography, handling his original with great freedom, introducing alterations and additions, omitting much superfluous detail and making original contributions of great value. The account of the geography of

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Germania is an interpolation of the greatest importance as a historical document. Further, the accounts of the celebrated voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan inserted in the volume were taken down from hearsay. The Norwegian Ohthere had voyaged furthest north of all his contemporaries reaching a latitude of about 71° 15’. Passing round the north of the Scandinavian peninsula, he afterwards explored the White Sea. Not till 1553 was this feat eclipsed, by Willoughby. Ohthere afterwards made a voyage south, from Halgoland to Haddeby in the Baltic. From this point Wulstan set out to explore the great sea, which Ohthere had described as running for many miles into the land. For a time he had Wendland on his starboard and the Danish islands on his port side. Continuing past the Swedish provinces of Bleking and Smaland, he reached the mouth of the Vistula. He entered the Frische Haff and sailed up the Elbing to Truso, having accomplished the voyage in seven days. On their return both voyagers recounted their adventures to Alfred, who gave them a sympathetic hearing. The narrative of Ohthere must have had particular interest for him, for the spirit of discovery which animated the Norwegian sailor was akin to that felt by the West Saxon king. Alfred had already formed plans for the development of a navy, and would readily recognise the relation between the spirit of adventure and the maintenance of seapower. Geographical conditions were largely responsible for the unrest of the Scandinavians. The interior of Sweden was filled with dense pine forests and Norway was, for the most part, a barren moor. Hence expeditions, piratical or otherwise, and the growth of that love for the sea which is reflected in the northern sagas. “He alone,” says the Ynglinga Saga, “had full right to the name of sea-king, who never slept under sooty beam and never drank at chimney corner.” The narrative of Ohthere’s voyage holds a unique position as the first attempt to give expression to the spirit of discovery. It is, besides, good literature, and finds an honourable place in Hakluyt’s great collection of voyages.  Alfred was too wise to burden his book with all the geographical detail given by Orosius. He confined himself to the essentials of general geography, omitting the descriptions of northeast Africa and of central Asia and abbreviating other passages. The mistakes which crept into his version are to be asscribed either to lack of acquaintance with the district described or to a misunderstanding of the somewhat difficult Latin of Orosius. The historical portion of the book is less original than the geographical. Alfred omitted a great deal, particularly in the sections dealing with classical mythology. The stories of Philomela, Tantalus and Caligula had little to commend them, and were not inserted in the translation. Many of the moralisings of Orosius were left out, though a number were retained in a paraphrased form. Curiously enough, some of the passages definitely ascribed by Alfred to Orosius are not to be traced in the original. It is possible that, in such cases, Alfred availed himself of materials as yet unknown to us. A more questionable proceeding is the omission of details prejudicial to the reputation of Germanic tribes. The alterations and additions in the historical section are decidedly interesting. There are the usual misunderstandings—the identification of Theseus with the victor of Marathon, of Carthage with Cordova, and the fusion of the consuls Lepidus and Mucius into one under the title of Lepidus Mutius. Wherever possible the king acts as interpreter, substituting, for example, English equivalents for the Latin names of British towns and English names of measures for Latin. The description given by Orosius of the appearances of Commodus in the arena is reduced to the simple statement that the emperor was accustomed to fight duels. Alfred’s imagination plays around the details of the plague of frogs in Egypt—“No meat could be prepared without there being as large a quantity of reptiles as of meat in the vessel before it could be dressed.” Cleopatra is described as placing the adder against her arm because she thought it would cause less pain there. Interesting accounts are inserted of a Roman triumph and of the temple of Janus. A side glimpse is often to be had of the king’s opinions, religious or otherwise. He enlarges on Scipio’s love for the fatherland, concluding, “He compelled them to swear that they would all together either live or die in their native land.” His admiration is likewise moved by the courage of Regulus, to whom he devotes considerable space. Orosius is thus of great value for the light it throws on Alfred’s character. He is shown to have been a skilful geographer and an interested, if not a scholarly, student of history. His practical purpose is clearly apparent. Everywhere in dealing with history he endeavours to bring the historical fact into vital relation with current affairs. The military achievements of Greeks and Romans remind him of wars in which he had himself been engaged, and his explanations of manceuvres are generally based on his own experience. Though the hand of Alfred is very apparent in the pages of Orosius, there is no good external authority for the authorship. The first to associate his name with this translation was William of Malmesbury.  3 

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  The translation of Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica may be considered next. The original is much less freely rendered than is the case with Orosius—a fact which may have been due to the authoritative position occupied by Bede’s book. The external testimony of Alfred’s authorship is fairly trustworthy. In his Homily on St. Gregory Aelfric refers to the Historia Anglorum, “which Alfred translated out of Latin into English,”

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and there is further evidence in the Cambridge MS., on the first leaf of which is written, Historicus quondam fecit me Beda latinum, Alfred rex Saxo transtulit ille pius. On the ground of certain Mercian characteristics in the text, however, Miller ventures to doubt the Alfredian authorship, and is led by the fact of certain omissions to fix the locality of the original MS. at Lichfield. On the other hand, Schipper holds to the orthodox view and considers the arguments based on dialect to be unproven. The omissions in Alfred’s Bede are very considerable, and no attempt is made to supplement the original with southern annals. No account is given of the famous ecclesiastical controversy which took place at Whitby--a fact which seems to Miller to confirm his view that the translator was not a West Saxon but a Mercian, keenly aware of Scotch susceptibilities. Bede’s accounts of the great figures of the early churches are retained, though the story of Adamnan is omitted. In the interest of his narrative Alfred omits such documents as letters from popes and bishops, retaining only Gregory’s first letter to the monks, and this in oratio obliqua. The finest passage in the English version is the account of Caedmon, an excellent piece of early prose, and Caedmon’s hymn is inserted in a West Saxon form, of which the original is to be found only in the Moore MS. of Bede’s History. The style is frequently marred by over-literalness. Latin constuction are constantly introduced in an altogether un-English fashion, and words are used in an un-English sense as equivalents for Latin terms. A peculiarity of the style is the employment of two English terms to represent a single term in the original. On the whole, the translation cannot rank very high among Alfred’s works, even if it be rightly attributed to him.

Note 2. Cf. De Civ. Dei, III. [ back ]Note 3. Gesta Regum Anglorum, 11, /??/ 123

§ 4. Codes of Law.

There is no external evidence to enable us to decide the date of Alfred’s code of laws. The historical introduction, based on the Vulgate, shows considerable independence and cannot be dated very early. The composition of the code may be assigned, provisionally, to the close of Alfred’s first translation period (c. 893), without, however, attaching much importance to Malmesbury’s statement that it was undertaken “amid the clash of arms.”  4  The code is of a somewhat composite character, and has usually been arranged in three sections—the introduction, the laws of Alfred proper and the laws of Ine. In his monograph entitled The Legal Code of Alfred the Great, Turk points out that this arrangement is not justified by the MSS. The introduction consists properly of two parts—the historical introduction based on the Mosaic law and the introduction proper. The insertions from the Mosaic law give a universal character to Alfred’s code. They are rendered somewhat freely, large portions of the Latin text being omitted and other portions altered. One of the Mosaic laws ran as follows: “If a man shall deliver unto his neighbour money or stuff to keep, and it be stolen out of the man’s house, if the thief be found, he shall pay double. If the thief be not found, then the master of the house shall come near unto God (or the judges), to see whether he have not put his hand unto his neighbour’s goods.”  5  This passage Alfred renders as follows: “If any one entrust his property to his friend: if he shall steal it, let him pay double; if he know not who has stolen it, let him excuse himself.” Another Mosaic law—“If men contend, and one smiteth the other with a stone or with his fist, and he die not, but keep his bed: if he rise again, and walk abroad upon his staff, then shall he that smote him be quit; only he shall pay for the loss of his time, and shall cause him to be thoroughly healed”  6 — has been much altered in Alfred’s version: “If a man strike his neighbour with a   stone or with his fist and he may nevertheless go about with a staff, let him provide him a leech and do his work during the time that he is not able.” The law concerning the first-born —“the first-born of thy sons shalt thou give unto me”  7 -- naturally finds no place in the West Saxon code. Another alteration is the substitution of two oxen five in the Mosaic ordinance, “If a man shall steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, or sell it, he shall pay five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep.”  8  A remarkable addition, intended to counteract the severity of the Mosaic code as a whole, is that of the apostolic letter, at the close of which Alfred continues in his own words--“From this one law a man may learn how we ought to judge aright. He needs no other law-books; let him bethink him that he do not to another what he would not have done to himself.”

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  Alfred’s code is, as we have indicated, of a composite character. He links himself with the church not only by his insertions from the Mosaic code but by his reference to “the many synods throughout the world and

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throughout England, after they had received the faith of Christ, of holy bishops and other distinguished counsellors.” Some of the synodical laws may have been embodied in the West Saxon code. Further we find alongside Alfred’s own laws those of Ine, of Offa and of Aethelbriht. The Mercian laws ascribed to offa are unfortunately lost, but the Kentish laws of Aethelbriht, the earliest “dooms” we have, though in a late copy, can be traced in Alfred’s code, where they have been inserted in a revised form. Bede refers to the original Kentish laws as “written in English and still preserved. Among which the king in the first place set down what satisfaction should be given by those who should steal anything belonging to the church, the bishop and the other clergy” (II, 5). The prominence given to the church seems to have appealed forcibly to the historian. Aethelbriht’s code is mainly taken up with the penalties payable for the infliction of personal injuries. The compensation for the loss of an ear is fixed, tariff-like, at 6s., of an eye at 50s., of a nose at 9s. “If one man strike another with the fist on the nose—3s.” Alfred carefully revised each of the penalties before inserting Aethelbriht’s code in his own. The laws of Ine date back to the eighth century and are the earliest of West Saxon laws. They are more comprehensive in character than the laws of Kent, but seem by Alfred’s date to have received large accretions. Alfred adopted the developed code of Ine apparently without subjecting it to revision. But he connects his own particular code with the earlier one in such a way as to make the one supplementary to the other. One of Ine’s laws as it appears in Alfred’s text is worth quoting: If a man burn a tree in a wood and it is made clear who did it, let him pay the full penalty of 60s., because fire is a thief. If a man fell many trees in a wood, and it is found out, let him pay for three trees, each with 30s. He need not pay for more, however many they be, because the axe is an informer and not a thief.

Note 4. Gesta Regum Anglorum, I, /??/ 129. [ back ]Note 5. Ex. xxii, 7, 8. [ back ]Note 6. Ex. xxi, 18, 19. [ back ]Note 7. Ex. xxii, 29. [ back ]Note 8. Ex. xxii, I.

§ 5. De Consolatione Philosophiae.

It is possible that some years elapsed before Alfred began his translations of Boethius’s De Consolatione Philosophiae. Assuming that his energies had been fully employed during the period from 888 to 893 with his early work, he could have had little leisure for any new undertaking before the year 897. The freedom with which the whole of this new task is carried out points to a late period and a mature method. Boethius’s book ranked among the most characteristic products of the Middle Ages. Its influence on later literature was immense, and is scarcely to be estimated by the number of translations, numerous though they were. It was done into English, after Alfred’s time, by Chaucer and Elizabeth, into German by Notker, into French by Jean de Meun. An early metrical version in Provençal also exists. The influence of Boethius has been traced in Beowulf; it permeates Dante and Chaucer. The closing words of the Paradiso—”Already my desire and will were rolled, even as a wheel that moveth equally, by the love that moves the sun and the other stars”—owe their origin to the Consolation of Philosophy. The book was written while the author was under sentence of death after having fallen into disfavour with the Ostrogothic king Theodric. It is in the form of a dialogue between Boethius and Philosophy, wherein are set forth the consolations associated with the contemplative state of mind. The famous dissertation upon fate and providence is conducted with considerable subtlety; but the atmosphere of the book is religious rather than philosophical, and it is signally free from the technicalities of the schools. Boethius harks back to the early Greek standpoint of Plato, from whom he derives his central doctrine of submissiveness. The finite is to be realised only in the absolute, which is identical with love, and love is realised by faith. The Middle Ages, with their vivid sense of an overruling fate, found in Boethius an interpretation of life closely akin to the spirit of Christianity. The Consolation of Philosophy stands, by its note of fatalism and its affinities with the Christian doctrine of humility, midway between the heathen philosophy of Seneca and the later Christian philosophy of consolation represented by Thomas á Kempis. Alfred’s religious outlook had much in common with the gentle philsophy of “the last of the Romans,” and the translation afforded him considerable opportunity for self-expression. In some passages the king identifies himself with the philosopher and enlarges on metaphysical themes. In others, as in the famous seventeenth chapter, he reflects on such problems as his

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duty toward the state: Thou knowest, Reason, that the greed and grandeur of this temporal power have never pleased me much, nor have I longed overmuch for this earthly kingdom: but I desired tools and material for the work which I was ordered to work, in order that I might virtuously and fittingly control the power entrusted to me.  The rendering of Boethius is never close, and the additions give a unique character to the work. The spirit of Alfred’s version is naturally more in keeping with Christianity than is the Neo-Platonic doctrine of Boethius. There is definite mention of God and Christ where Boethius speaks of “the good,” or “love,” or “the true way,” or “divine reason”; again, the English version substitutes “angels” for “divine substance.” The minor additions are often interesting. The lynx is “an animal that can see through anything--trees or even stones”; the Parcae are “the cruel goddesses who preside over the fates of every man”; Orpheus is “an excellent good harper.” Alfred’s interest in geography induced him to supply the information that ultima Thule is situated “in the north-west of this earth,” and Mount Etna in “the island of Sicily.” But it is in the expanded passages that the chief value of the book consists. The preface and chapter I, with its interesting account of the Latin author, are wholly original. Chapter XVII, again, is original, save for a few lines. Details concerning Busiris, Regulus and Seneca are inserted, which are only partially translated, and the account of Cicero is a noteworthy addition. It was a happy inspiration that led Alfred to render the Latin Ubi nunc fidelis ossa Fabricii manent?— in the spirit of a Teuton attached to his national legends —“Where are the bones of Weland?” He is much interested in astrology, and refers more than once to “the cold star,” Saturn. The reflective passages afford most instructive glimpses into the workings of the king’s mind. They are permeated by deep religious fervour: “It is,” he writes, “the expectation and fancy of fools that power and wealth are the highest good; but really is quite otherwise.” He reflects on the vanity of earthly ambition: “O glory of this world, why do men falsely call thee glory, when thou art not so?” The literary beauty of the similes employed by Alfred has been often noted. Prosperity passes away “like a gust of wind”; blessings flow from the source of all goodness “like waters from the sea.” God is likened to a steersman who perceives the oncoming of a storm and makes preparations against it. In an important article, Schepss raised the question as to how far Alfred’s interpolations were based on Latin commentaries similar to that of Froumond, or upon scholia such as are to be found in the Munich MS. He pointed out that, in expanding Boethius’s account of the giants, who incurred the wrath of Jupiter by assailing heaven, Alfred introduced Nimrod and the Tower of Babel. The hint for this seems to have been derived from the Munich MS. The famous simile of the egg— Thou, glorious king of hosts, through strong might wonderfully didst establish the earth so firmly that she inclineth not on any side nor may she sink hither and thither any more than she ever did. Yet nothing earthly sustains her, it is equally easy for this world to fall upwards or downwards: likest to that which happens in an egg, the yolk is in the midst yet glideth freely about the egg. So stands the world fixed in its place, while the streams, the play of waters, the sky and the stars and the shining shell move about day by day as they did long ago—and the other simile, of the wheel, in which God is compared to the fixed axle round which the felly and spokes turn, are not wholly original but, together with many other passages, show the influence of the scholia. It is highly probable that much in Alfred’s work which has hitherto been looked upon as wholly original will be found to have been based upon similar sources. The preface, on the genuineness of which some doubt has been thrown, informs us that Alfred was the translator of the book and that he rendered his original “sometimes word for word, sometimes sense for sense, as best he could amid the manifold occupations of his kingdom.” This description of the king’s method is altogether in keeping with that prefixed to the Pastoral Care. It is worthy of note that, according to William of Malmesbury,  9  Asser had previously glossed the Latin for the king’s benefit. In view of this statement the present translation was, for a long time, considered to have been the first of Alfred’s undertakings. He may have intended to begin Boethius at an early period, but it is certain that the translation as we now have it is a late piece of work. The language has given rise to interesting problems. The two chief MSS., the Bodleian and the Cottonian, contain, according to Sievers, a large number of Kentisms. These are possibly due to a scribe of Kentish origin, the whole case being parallel to that of Bede.

  18

Note 9. Gesta Regum Anglorum, II, /??/ 122.

§ 6. The metres in Alfred’s Boethius.

Much discussion has arisen with regard to the authorship of the alliterative metres which are to be found in the British Museum MS. of Boethius (Otho A. 6). The younger MS. at Oxford contains a prose version of these metres. It is generally agreed that the verse renderings are based, not on the Latin directly, but on a West Saxon prose version. In the British Museum MS. the text is preceded by two prefaces, one of which is in alliterative verse; the other, in prose, attributes the metres to Alfred. Thomas Wright was the first to doubt the king’s authorship of the metres, but his arguments have been largely disproved. Leicht was able to bring forward a more formidable case. While admitting the weakness of Wright’s argument, he contended that the case for Alfred’s authorship rests on an unsound basis. He agreed with Ten Brink in the opinion that the preface ascribing the verses to Alfred is not authentic, and maintained that the king, in attempting to render his own prose into verse, would scarcely have clung so closely to his model as is the case. On the other hand, Hartmann has pointed out that Alfred’s skill in prose argues no facility in verse-making. The two poems in Cura Pastoralis have no more distinction than those in the British Museum MS. Again, there are certain expressions in this MS., not to be found in the Oxford type, which definitely refer to passages in the latter. The author of the verses appears to identify himself with the author of the prose translation. On the whole, the question must be left open, though it would seem that it rests with those who deny the king’s authorship to establish their case. It is known that Alfred was an enthusiast in regard to Old English verse, and it is not improbable that he was well acquainted with the verses of his kinsman, Aldhelm. A spirit of emulation may have led him to try his hand at versification.

§ 7. Augustine’s Soliloquies.

The West Saxon version of Augustine’s Soliloquia stands last in order of Alfred’s translations, and considerable doubt has been expressed as to its genuineness. Pauli, on the ground that Alfred’s name does not occur in the preface, rejects it altogether, and finds justification in the fact that the language is an impure form of West Saxon. Wülker, who formerly identified the Soliloquies with the Handbook, considers the book to be genuine. He points out that the preface in its present form is mutilated and that the twelfth century MS. is too late to afford any evidence based on style. Judging from the nature of the references to holy orders, the translation appears to have been the work of a layman rather than a monk, and the closing words, whether genuine or not, attribute it to Alfred. The vocabulary of the Soliloquies has much in common with that of Alfred’s Boethius, and there are close resemblances between the two works in thought and style. Some of the original passages seem to have been directly based upon translated portions of Boethius, and original passages in both works sometimes correspond closely. Alfred was attracted to Augustine by the nature of his them. The Latin work is a treatise on God and the soul, in which much space is devoted to a discussion of immortality. The translation is undertaken quite in accordance with Alfred’s customary methods. He renders the first book somewhat closely, but paraphrases the sense and makes a few additions, indulging his taste for simile in a comparison between the soul at rest in God and a ship at anchor, and discoursing at length on the changes that take place in nature, on the likeness between God and the sun and on the relation between king and subject. Book II he renders very freely. He discusses the problem of immortality from an independent standpoint: “Believe thine own reason and believe Christ, the Son of God, and believe all His saints for they were truthful witnesses, and believe thine own soul which ever declares through reason that she is in thee.” Book III is based on another source, Augustine’s De Videndo Deo, supplemented by passages from Augustine’s De Civitate Dei, Gregory’s Morals and Dialogues and Jerome’s Commentary on Luke. The dialogue form is continued for some time, though the sources do not justify such an arrangement. The spirit of the whole translation is deeply religious. It is a logical discussion of the nature and future of the soul, in which Augustine’s dialectics are rejected in favour of commonsense reasoning. There is a natural connection between the Soliloquies and Boethius, since its central theme had already been suggested in the closing pages of the latter. It hasalready been shown that the preface to the Pastoral Care is in the nature of a general introduction to Alfred’s translated works; the preface to the Soliloquies may be considered an epilogue--the king’s farewell to literature-- I gathered me poles and props and bars and handles for each of the tools which I could handle, and bough timbers and bolt timbers for each of the tasks which I was capable of undertaking, the fairest wood, as far as I could bear it away. I came not home with a great burden, since it pleased me not to bring all the wood home, even if I could have carried it. On each tree I saw something which I needed at home. Therefore, I advise every man who is able and has many waggons, that he direct himself to the same wood where I cut the props, and that he procure for himself more, and load his waggons with fair beams, that he may construct many a fair wall, and

many a beautiful house, and many a town and dwell there merrily and peacefully, both winter and summer, as I have not done.With this parable Alfred closes his literary career.

§ 8. The Chronicle.

The literature of the reign for which the king was not directly responsible owed at least its inspiration to him. In the monasteries the work of producing MSS. went forward with great activity, but the scribes were engaged in merely copying out books; they did no original work. It had been customary, however, for the monks to keep record of events of outstanding importance. These monastic records were of the briefest possible kind, designed to serve merely as landmarks in the passage of time and not as historical surveys, but in these casual and unsystematic notes Alfred perceived the nucleus for a larger survey of West Saxon history. The change in the tone of the Chronicle has been ascribed to Aethelwul’s reign, but it is probable that Alfred was responsible for the systematic revision of the earlier records back to Hengest and Horsa, and his connection with the Chronicle is possibly referred to in Gaimar’s Estorie des Engles, though the allusion is somewhat obscure. The Chronicle, as known to us, is a highly composite piece of work, and it consists of various recensions, the relations between which have been carefully worked out by Earle and Plummer.  10  The original nucleus belonged to Winchester, the capital of the West Saxon kingdom. The Alfredian version comes down to 892 only, at which date the first hand in the MS. ceases, and of this portion Alfred may be supposed to have acted as supervisor.

  21

  From a historical point of view, the Chronicle was the first national continuous history of a western nation in its own language; from a literary point of view, it was the first great book in English prose. The account of the years 893-7 is one of the most vivid in the whole of the annals. The struggle with the Danes and the great series of campaigns extending over the whole of the south of England are described in detail. At one time the king is at Exeter while Aethelred, the ealdorman, is occupied on the Severn, the struggle extending north as far as York and Chester. Alfred’s military and naval reforms are enlarged upon, the king’s brilliant exploits, and his care for the nation’s well-being, inspiring the annalist with the spirit of a historian. The whole narrative is a masterpiece of Old English prose, full of vigour and life.

  22

Note 10. The different recensions of the Chronicle and its further development are dealt with in the chapter that follows. [ back ]

§ 9. Gregory’s Dialogues.

The West Saxon translation of Gregory’s Dialogues owed its inspiration directly to Alfred. The authorship of the translation has never been called in question; both Asser and William of Malmesbury attribute it to Werferth, bishop of Worcester, who undertook the task at the king’s bidding. The book is partly in dialogue form. Gregory is found by his deacon, Peter, sitting “in a solitary place, very fit for a sad and melancholy disposition.” The stories which Gregory proceeds to tell, serve to relieve his mind of its weight of thought. The monk, Martinius, impresses the sign of the cross upon a hearth-cake with a motion of the hand; a sweet fragrance miraculously arises from the grave of count Theophanius; bishop Frigidianus turns the course of the Serchio by marking out its bed with a rake. Book II is exclusively devoted to St. Benedict. The collection was an attempt to complete the accepted lives of the saints by a recital of miraculous deeds performed in Italy. Towards the end of the book Gregory leaves Italy and tells the story of St. Hermenegild and his brother king Recarede. The preface, in the Oxford and Cambridge MSS., is the work of the king and is thus of particular interest— I, Alfred, by God’s grace, dignified with the title of king, have perceived and often learnt from the reading of sacred books, that we, to whom God hath given so much worldly honour, have particular need to humble and subdue our minds to the divine laws in the midst of wordly cares; accordingly, I besought my faithful friends that they would write down out of holy books concerning the miracles of the saints the following narrative; that I, strengthened in my mind by admonition and love, might think upon spiritual things in the midst of my worldly cares.

  23

  The MSS. of the Dialogues have given rise to interesting problems. The Cambridge and British Museum types are closely related and stand apart from that of Oxford. From this fact Krebs deduced the theory that the Dialogues were translated on two separate occasions. A more careful comparison of the MSS. has shown that they are all derived from a single original, of which the Oxford type represents a revised version.

  24

  The West Saxon Martyrology may be ascribed to Alfred’s reign. Cockayne was of opinion that the oldest MS.—that in the British Museum—dates from the ninth century. It is noteworthy that the saints referred to belong either to the period preceding the king’s reign or to the reign itself. Another proof of the age of the collection is the fact that under 5 August Oswald is described as buried at Bardney, though his body was moved to Gloucester soon after Alfred’s death. The story of St. Milus (15 November) seems to have been derived from the east. The Leech-book attests Alfred’s relations with Elias, the patriarch of Jerusalem, whose rule extended from 897 to 907. The Martyrology is incomplete, but it extends from 31 December to 21 December

§ 10. Works attributed to Alfred.

Alfred’s literary reputation caused a number of other works to be ascribed to him for which there is no trustworthy evidence. Of these the most important is the so-called Psalter William of Malmesbury makes a statement to the effect that Alfred began a translation of the Psalms, but was unable to complete it—Psalterium transferre aggressus vix prima parte explicata vivendi finem fecit.  11  Curiously enough, an eleventh century MS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale at Paris contains an Old English prose version of the first fifty psalms, followed by an alliterative version of the remainder (psalms li-cl). Wülker conjectures that the prose portions were based on the work of Alfred referred to by William of Malmesbury. Each psalm is preceded by an introduction, in which are set forth the circumstances under which the psalm was written. The translation is free, and the method of rendering one word by two is frequently resorted to. In this latter respect the prose Psalter resembles Alfred’s Bede and Pastoral Care  12  The alliterative portions in the Paris MS. were probably introduced to supplement the deficiencies of the prose version; there can be no doubt that a complete alliterative version of thePsalms was in existence when the prose was undertaken.

  26

  Alfred has been credited with a collection of Proverbs in metrical form. In favour of this there is not the slightest evidence. For centuries he must have had some reputation as a philosopher, and an anonymous collection of maximum would naturally be associated with his name. A treatise on Falconry and a translation of Aesop’s Fables have also been attributed to him, but for neither of these is there any evidence.

  27

Note 11. Gesta Regum Anglorum II /??/ 123. [ back ]Note 12. But see Bruce’s Anglo-Saxon Version of the Book of Psalms. [ back ]

§ 11. His Literary Achievement.

Alfred’s literary achievement is of immense importance. The prominence given to the vernacular during his reign made it possible for English literature to develop on its own lines. He was wise enough to limit himself to the work of translation, since he had not, apparently, great creative genius in letters. But the effect of his choice of models was to introduce a large Latin element into Old English prose style. Compared with the abrupt and rugged style of the king Cynewulf episode in the early part of the Chronicle, Alfred’s prose is that of an accomplished writer: compared with later prose, it is largely tentative. It was not until nearly a century later that more definite results were achieved when Aelfric took up the task left incomplete by the West Saxon king. Apart from the historic estimate, Alfred has some personal claim to recognition as a prose writer. His original passages, however much they may owe to undiscovered sources, embody his own personal convictions, and afford a remarkable proof of his ability to inform with life the materials at his disposal. In literature, personality is of the utmost importance, and Alfred is one of the most personal of writers. He is the embodiment, not only of the intellectual, but of the spiritual, thoughts of his time. His writings constantly reveal his aspirations after truth, and, even in the Laws, there is a definitely religious tone. “I have wished,” he writes inBoethius, “to live worthily while I lived, and to leave to those who should come after me my memory in good deeds.” And in the language of the inscription on the monument erected to his memory at Wantage in 1877, he “found learning

dead, and he restored it; education neglected, and he revived it.”

VII. From Alfred to the Conquest.

§ 1. The Chronicle.

It seems permissible to treat the year 901, when king Alfred died, as the dividing line between the earlier and later period of Old English literature.  1  According to this classification, nearly all the poetry composed in this country before the Norman conquest would fall within the first period; while the bulk of the prose writings in the vernacular would be included in the second. It was, indeed, during the tenth and eleventh centuries that our language in its Old English stage attained its highest development as a prose medium. The circumstances of the time were unfavourable to the production of sustained poems. This may be owing to the gradual break-up of Old English tradition and to the influence of another Germanic literature, then at its height, in the English court. The chief poetical fragments that have survived from these years deal with contemporary events, and seem to be the outbreak of emotions too strong to be suppressed.

  1

  Like feelings find their expression also in the prose literature of these centuries, which saw not only the rise of the West Saxon kings to full mastery over England, but also the victories of Dane and Norman, and the quenching of all hope of English rule over England until the conquered should absorb the conquerors. There was scarcely a year during this period in which the harassed rulers of the kingdom could afford to lay aside their arms; though during the time of comparative quiet between the death of Aethelstan and the accession of Aethelred England took an active part in the monastic revival which was so marked a feature of contemporary European history. In these times of struggle, letters and learning found, for a time, their grave, and long years of patient struggle were needed to revive them.

  2

  The gloomy tale is nowhere better told than in the Chronicle which, written in simple language, alone marks for more than half a century the continuance of literary activity in England

  3

  The beginning of the Chronicle is usually ascribed to the influence of Alfred, and it continues for two and a half centuries after that king’s reign, long after the last English king had been slain and the old tongue banished from court and school. Its principal recensions  2  differ from one another not in the main story, but in the attention given to various details, and in the length to which they are carried. Owing to the number of hands employed in its composition, the literary merit is very unequal; sometimes the entries consist of a date and the simple statement of an event; at others we find passages of fluent and glowing narrative, as in the record of the war-filled years from 911 to 924. The period from 925 to 975 is very bare, and such entries as exist relate mostly to church matters. It is, however, within this time that the principal poems of the Chronicle are inserted. Under 991 is told the story of Anlaf’s raid at Maldon in which Byrhtnoth fell. In the years 975–1001 the Chronicle is of extreme interest, and the annals for the year 1001 are very full. Some time about the middle, or towards the last quarter, of the eleventh century the present recension of the Winchester chronicle was transplanted to Christ Church, Canterbury, and there completed with Canterbury annals, passages being interpolated in various places from beginning to end from the chronicle kept at St. Augustine’s, Christ Church library having been previously burnt. Before this, the notice taken of Canterbury events was so extremely slight that we do not even hear of the murder of archbishop Aelfh[char]ah (St. Alphege) by the Dances.  3  The MS. known as Cott. Tib. A. VI seems to have been originally meant to serve as an introduction to further annals, which, however, were never written; and it is apparently a copy of the original Abingdon chronicle (itself a copy of the original Winchester, written at Abingdon), which did not reach beyond 977. The MS. under consideration is shown by a mass of internal and external evidence to have been written about 977, the year to which its annals reach. It may fitly be called the shorter Abingdon chronicle to distinguish it from the longer Abingdon chronicle referred to below, with which it has much in common;  4  both, for example, bodily insert the Mercian annals (sometimes called the chronicle of Aethelflamed). These extend from 902–925, and tell, with some detail, of the warlike feats of the Lady of Mercia. It may be noted, in passing, that these Mercian annals occur in the socalled Worcester chronicle  5  where, however, they are distributed, with some omissions, amongst other matter. These Mercian annals are of the greatest interest, both in origin and history. Their chronology differs considerably from that of other chronicles. Perhaps the original document, or some copy of it, in which they were contained, is to be traced under the record Cronica duo Anglica in the Catalogi veteres librorum Ecclesiae Dunelmi, where we also find the record of Elfledes Boc in the same place. This at once

  4

suggests to us the existence of these annals in a book of Aethelflaed, telling of her fight for English freedom. Thus the inscription and record bring us into close connection with what may well have suggested and stimulated the heroic poem of Judith 6   The (Longer) Abingdon chronicle is so called because, from its references to the affairs of that monastery, it is supposed to have been written there. This longer chronicle is not expanded from the shorter, nor the shorter extracted from the longer. Both have a number of independent annals up to the very year 977 where the common original ended. It may be surmised that the author of the recension under notice found the original Abingdon ready up to 977 (when the troubles consequent on Edgar’s death may have accounted for many things), and further annals up to 1018, to which he made later additions. The MS. tells of the election of Siward, abbot of Abingdon, as archbishop of Canterbury in 1044, the appointment of Aethelstan as his successor to the abbacy, Aethelstan’s death in 1047 and archbishop Siward’s return to the monastery after his retirement from office in 1048.

  5

  In 892, a copy of the southern chronicle was sent to a northern cloister, and there was revised with the aid of the text of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History.. There seems, also to have been a northern continuation of Bede’s History, and, from this, were woven into the chronicler’s text annals 737–806. Fifteen of these annals are wholly, and sixteen party, Northumbrian. That these annals were taken from some such source seems to be proved by their being found also in other works. The chronicler then followed southern sources until 904, when he began to weave into his text the book of Aethelflaed, mingling with it southern and northern records. From 983–1022, he returned to his Abingdon source. After this he struck out on his own line. From the original thus created was copied the extant MS. commonly known as the Worcester or Evesham chronicle  7  which shows especial acquaintance with the midlands and north. The close connection between Worcester and York is shown by the fact that the archbishop of York is mentioned simply as “the archbishop.” The chronicle shows strong feeling on the subject of Godwin’s outlawry, and in every way supports that nobleman. Alone amongst the chronicles it tells the sad tale of the battle of Hastings. The original from which the above chronicle was copied, seems also to have been the basis for that patriotic Kentish chronicle, now lost, which was the chief source both of the Peterborough chronicle up to 1123 and the rescension known as Cott. Dom. A. VIII, 2.

  6

  The Peterborough chronicle  8  is the longest of all, extending to the year 1154. In 1116 the town and monastery of Peterborough were destroyed by a terrible fire, which left standing only the monastic chapterhouse and dormitory, and when, in 1121, the rebuilding was completed, the annals contained in this chronicle were undertaken to replace those lost in the fire. They were based on the lost Kentish chronicle, which must have been forwarded to Peterborough for that purpose. This original Kentish chronicle is full of patriotic feeling and shows great knowledge of southern affairs from Canute’s death, the burial of Harold Harefoot (the record of which it alone rightly tells) and the viking raid on Sandwich, to the feuds between English and Norman in the reign of the Confessor. It relates count Eustace’s broils with the English of Canterbury and Dover, and the flight of archbishop Robert, leaving his pallium behind him, an annal recorded with dangerously schismatic glee. The scribe had lived at the court of William the Conqueror, and had, therefore, seen the face of the great enemy of the English. The entries for the tenth century are very meagre; but from 991 to 1075 they are much fuller and contain, among other contemporary records, the story of the ravages of Hereward. Towards the end of the chronicle, which is written in a somewhat rough and ready manner, occurs the famous passage, so often quoted by historians, telling of the wretchedness of the common folk during the reign of Stephen and its civil wars.

  7

  From the lost Kentish chronicle is derived the recension known as F or Cott. Domitian A. VIII, 2, seemingly written by one hand in the twelfth century, and of interest because of its mixed use of Latin and English. In this it indicates the approach of the employment of Latin as the general literary vehicle of English culture. There is great confusion in its bilingual employment of Latin and English; sometimes English is the original and Latin the copy, at other times the process is reversed; finally, in some passages, Latin and English become ludicrously mixed. Two other recensions exist as mere fragments: one, of three damaged leaves, in a hand of the eleventh century, is bound up with a copy of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History 9 ; and the other  10  consists of a single leaf. The manuscript to which the former of these fragments belonged was edited by Wheloc in 1644 before it was consumed in the Cottonian fire.

  8

  The following table adapted from Plummer shows the relations of the various MSS. to each other, the exrtant MSS. being indicated by initial letters;

  9

  The Chronicle is of inestimable value as an authority for the history of the time. The impression it leaves on the reader is one of almost unrelieved gloom. Records of harrying with fire and sword occur on almost every page, and, whether the English ealdorment or the Danes “possess the place of slaughter,” the wild

  10

lawlessness and the contempt for human life which prevailed during the greater part of the period are plainly visible. Sometimes the chronicler displays bitter indignation at the misgovernment of the country, as when he tells how Aethelred and his ealdormen and the high witan forsook the navy which had been collected with immense effort by the people and “let the toil of all the nation thus lightly perish.” But the entries are usually of an entirely impersonal kind; the horror and desolation, the fiery signs in the heaven, and the plagues that befell men and cattle upon earth, are recorded without comment; such misfortunes were too common to call for special remark in the days of the long struggle between Dane and Englishman.  It has already been said that this portion of the Chronicle contains several fragments of verse. These will be noticed later. Here, it may, however, be remarked that some passages written as prose are based on songs which have been inserted, after some slight modification, by the scribe; and, towards the end of the Peterborough chronicle, there occur some long stretches of rhythmic prose almost akin to the sung verse of the people. These may be either a development of the loose rhythm of Aelfric’s prose, or may, possibly, result from the incorporation of ballads and their reduction to prose. The subject is, however, still too obscure to admit of any very definite statement on this point, and most of what has been said on this subject seems far removed from finality.

  11

Note 1. See note on p. 497. [ back ]Note 2. The Winchester or Parker chronicle, in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge; the shorter Abingdon chronicle (Cott. Tib. A. VI); the longer Abingdon chronicle (Cott. Tib. B. I); the Evesham or Worcester chronicle (Cott. Tib. B. IV); the Peterborough chronicle (Bod. Laud. 636). [ back ]Note 3. The recension under notice is a copy of the original Winchester chronicle, which latter was also the source of the original Abingdon chronicle. Hence the agreement with Tib. A. VI, and Tib. B. I. up to 892. Naturally, it does not incorporate the Mercian chronicle, but maintains a kind of separate parallelism from 894–915. [ back ]Note 4. Cott. Tib. B. I. [ back ]Note 5. Cott. Tib. B. IV [ back ]Note 6. See P. 142. [ back ]Note 7. 1 Cott. Tib. IV [ back ]Note 8. 2 Bod. Laud. 636. [ back ]Note 9. Cott. Oth. B. XI, 2. [ back ]Note 10. Cott. Tib. A. III, Fol. 175. [ back ]

§ 2. The Monastic Reform.

From this brief description of the manuscripts of the Chronicle we must turn to the homilists, who showed especial vigour between 960 and 1020. The development reached in style and in literary tradition is at once apparent; it had its origin, doubtless, in the religious revival of the tenth century, which emanated from Fleury, and was identified in England with the names of Dunstan, Aethelwold and Oswald, the “three torches” of the church.

  12

  At the beginning of the tenth century, English monasticism and, therefore, the state of learning in England, were in a deplorable condition, from which all the efforts of king Alfred had been unable to lift them. There were religious houses, of course, but most of these seem to have been in the condition of Abingdon when Aethelwold was appointed abbot—“a place in which a little monastery had been kept up from ancient days, but then desolate and neglected, consisting of mean buildings and possessing only a few hides.” To the influence of the Benedictine reformers we owe much of the prose literature of the tenth and eleventh centuries. The great bond thus knit once more between English literature and the literature of the continent ensured our share in what was then living of classical and pseudo-classical lore.

  13

  With the accession of Edgar (959) better times dawned. On the death of Odo, Dunstan became archbishop, and, in 961 Oswald, Odo’s nephew, was consecrated to the see of Worcester. His appointment was followed in 963 by that of Aethelwold, abbot of Abingdon, to the see of Winchester, and the three bishops set about a vigorous ecclesiastical reform. During the reigns of Edgar and his sons no fewer than forty monasteries for men were founded or restored, and these were peopled chiefly by monks trained at Abingdon or Winchester.

  14

  The most famous school of all was that founded at Winchester by Aethelwold, one of the most distiguished   15

of the pupils of Dunstan, and himself an enthusiastic teacher, who did not scorn to explain the difficulties of Donatus and Priscian to the postulants and other youthful frequenters of the Benedictine school. The most important of his scholars was Aelfric, the greatest prose writer in the vernacular before the Conquest.  The inhabitants of the newly restored monasteries naturally required instruction in the Benedictine rule, and to this necessity is due the version of the rule which Aethelwold drew up under the title Regularis Concordia Anglicae Nations Monachorum Sanctimonialiumque. In the beginning of this he stated that the work had the sanction of the king, and that it was framed at a council at Winchester. The name of the writer is nowhere given, and, were it not that Aelfric, in his Letter to the Monks of Eynsham, says that the source of his information is bishop Aethelwold’s De Consuetudine, and quotes long passages from the Regularis (evidently the same work), we should be ignorant of the authorship.  11 

  16

  But it was not enough to multiply copies and commentaries of the Rule in Latin. Many of the newly admitted postulants and novices were quite ignorant of that language, and, therefore, king Edgar further entrusted Aethelwold with the task of translating the Rule into English, giving him in acknowledgement the manor of Southborne, which he assigned to the newly restored monastery at Ely. There are several MSS. containing an Old English version of the Rule, and in one of them  12  it is followed by a historical sketch of the monastic revival of the tenth century, which recounts Edgar’s share in the movement, his refounding of Abingdon and his command to translate into English the Rule. Schrüer thinks that this tractate is by the author of the foregoing version of the Rule; but, since the writer calls himself everywhere “abbot,” and not “bishop,” if it is by Aethelwold he must have made it between 959, the year of Edgar’s accession, and 963, when he became bishop of Winchester.

  17

Note 11. Miss Bateson, Rules for monks and secular canons after the revival under king Edgar, Eng. Hist. Review, 1894. [ back ]Note 12. Faustina A. x. [ back ]

§ 3. Blickling Homilies.

It is possible that the Blickling Homilies, so called because the MS. is preserved at Blickling Hall, Norfolk, were also due to this religious revival. They are nineteen in number, but several are incomplete, and some are mere fragments. The earlier homilies are sermons, properly so called; but the later are largely narrative in character, and are based on legendary sources.

  18

  The style of these homilies stands midway between the style of Alfred and that of Aelfric; it is more developed than the one, more primitive than the other; it is rude, vehement and homely, more indulgent of legend and shows the primitive love for recitative; the syntax is clumsy, and the vocabulary often archaic. On the other hand the treatment is sometimes very poetical, though this characteristic appears rather in simile and metaphor than in rhythm of structure. “The redness of the rose glitters in thee, and the whiteness of the lily shines in thee,” says Gabriel to Mary; and Heaven is pictured as a place where there “is youth without age; nor is there hunger nor thirst, nor wind nor storm nor rush of waters.” The palm branch in the hand of the angel who announces to the Virgin her approaching death is “bright as the morning star,” and the Lord appears to Andrew with a face “like that of a fair child.” Equally poetical are the passages that deal with more sombre themes, such as doomsday, the lamentation of the lost at the harrowing of hell and the vision of St. Paul of the souls clinging to the cliffs from which the devils sought to drag them away. Morris has pointed out that there is a good deal of similarity between this last passage and the well-known lines in Beowulf which describes the “rimy groves” which grew above the abyss where Grendel had his home. But exactly similar descriptions are found in all other versions of this aged legend  13  Aelfric, it is true, rejected the legend on critical grounds, but the coming centuries were to see it become the basis of a masterpiece of the world’s poetry. Comparisons of these Old English legends with their sources and cognate branches lead to the conclusion that the poetic element which was inherent in them could scarcely be destroyed altogether, however poor the translation might be.

  19

  The probable date of these homilies is towards the close of the third quarter of the tenth century; they refer to the universal belief, based on a misunderstanding of the Talmudic metaphor prevailing throughout the Revelation of St. John, that the year 1000 would see the end of the world; and one of them, the eleventh, contains a statement to the effect that it was composed in 971. This date cannot be accepted as indisputably that of the whole collection; the passage may be an interpolation, and, moreover, there is nothing to prove

  20

that all the homilies were composed at the same time, or by one writer.

Note 13. Cf. the Provençal. [ back ]

§ 4. The Works of Aelfric.

During these years Aelfric was growing up in the monastery school at Winchester. The exact year of his birth is not known, but, as he himself tells us that he spent many years as a pupil of Aethelwold, who died in 984, we may, perhaps, put the date at about 955. It is worth noticing that, in his Life of St. Swithun, Aelfric describes with some detail the translation of the relics of that saint to the restored cathedral at Winchester, and, as this took place in 971, he was probably then a postulant. We know that he was a priest, and over thirty years of age, when, in 987, he was sent to the abbey of Cerne in Dorsetshire to instruct the brethren in the Benedictine rule, that is to say, when he was novice-master of Cerne abbey.

  21

  It was soon after this that Aelfric composed his first homilies, in two series, each of which has a Latin preface addressed to Sigeric, archbishop of Canterbury. As Sigeric’s years of office extended only from 989 to 995, and as he was absent in Rome during the first two or three of these years, the homilies were probably composed between the years 990 and 995. The second series is more exactly dated by a reference in the Latin preface to the Danish attack on Southampton in 994, so that we may assign the first collection to the years 990 to 993.

  22

  In addition to the Latin prefaces, there is prefixed to each series a statement in English composed much later, probably after 1016, recounting the reasons which had induced the author to turn them from Latin into the vernacular. In the first, he explains that he has done it for the sake of unlearned men, who, especially at this time, when the end of the world is approaching, need to be fortified against tribulation and hardship; and, remembering the injunctions of Christ, Aelfric believed it to be his duty also to teach the ignorant. The English preface to the second series is much shorter, simply stating the author’s reasons for dividing the homilies into two books, and giving the sources in general terms.

  23

  According to the original plan each collection was to consist of forty sermons, and each was to cover the whole of the church year, the second treating of such Sundays and feast-days as were not mentioned in the first. But neither in the manuscripts nor in Thorpe’s edition does the number of homilies correspond with this scheme; for, while the first series contains forty, the second has forty-five, of which the last six do not belong to the original collection. This gives only thirty-nine; but if the two sermons for mid-Lent Sunday are counted separately we arrive at the proper number. The two series were designed to give alternate sermons for the greater feast-days, the first series being simple, doctrinal and instructive, the second discursive, historical and more elaborate, with much narrative.  14 

  24

  Although the subjects of the sermons are appropriate to the days for which they were intended, there is also an attempt to give a large survey of biblical and ecclesiastical history. Thus, the first homily of the first series, De Initio Creaturae, treats not only of creation, but relates the stories of the fall, the flood, the dispersal of tongues, the patriarchs and the Mosaic law. Then follows another, De Natale Domini, which gives the life of Christ from His birth to His ascension. The second series treats more particularly of the history of the apostles, the origin of monastic life, the foundation of the English church under Gregory the Great and its expansion in the days of St. Cuthbert. The didactic element is less pronounced in the second part than in the first, and, while the first part seems to have been intended for the instruction of the ignorant in the primary facts of their belief, the second is devoted mainly to the exposition of the teaching of the church. It is in this second series that we find the famous sermon on the Eucharist which, owing to the difficulty of expressing in the unaccustomed English tongue the undeveloped and indefinite standpoint of the period, has led to much controversy, based on the mistake of reading into the tenth century the ideas of modern times. The reformers gave us our first editions of this sermon in the form of controversial pamphlets.

  25

  The chief sources of these sermons were, as the homilist himself tells us, the works of St. Augustine, St. Jerome, St. Gregory, Bede, Smaragdus and Haymo. Förster regards the homilies of St. Gregory as the groundwork. Additional sources are Alcuin, Gregory of Tours and Rufinus, the Vitae Patrum of Ratramnus, and many others. The English song on St. Thomas he did not use, and he rejected St. Paul’s vision in favour of English works on St. Peter and St. Paul. But all these are treated very freely, and, although Aelfric was often hampered by the inadequacy of the language to express abstract ideas, his skill as a teacher is

  26

especially visible in the lucidity with which he explains the mysteries of their religion to his ignorant audience.  The treatment, throughout, is highly poetical; alliteration abounds, and ten of the homilies are in a rhythm identified by Einenkel and Trautmann as the four-beat verse of the Old High German poet Otfried, though the reality of this identification is doubtful. These are the homilies on the Passion, the invention of the cross, Joshua’s victories, St. James the Just, Clement, Alexander, St. Martin, St. Cuthbert, Irenaeus and that on love. Of the three senses of Scripture, the mystical is most delighted in, and symbolism is prominent. Similar feeling and outlook is reflected in most Middle English homilies. Thus, the dead skins in which our first parents were clad after the fall betokened that “they were then mortal who might have been immortal, if they had kept that easy commandment of God.” Such a use, in the lengths to which it was then carried, although faithfully reflecting the ideas of the early and subsequent centuries of the Middle Ages, is strained to the modern mind and to the modern reader. Aelfric’s imagination is better seen in the tender and pathetic passages describing the slaughter of the Innocents or the solitary sojourn of St. Cuthbert on the island of Lindisfarne.

  27

  Aelfric’s next works, though equally significant of his zeal as a teacher, were much less ambitious. They consisted of a Latin grammar, a Latin-English vocabulary and a Latin colloquy or dialogue, intended to instruct the novices at Winchester in the daily speech of the monastery. The Grammar, like so many of Aelfric’s works, has two prefaces, one in English and one in Latin, the former explaining that the book is based on the greater and lesser Priscian, to the end that, when “tender boys” have mastered the eight parts of speech in the grammars of Donatus (the shorter of which was the general medieval text-book), they may proceed to perfect their studies both in Latin and English; while the latter tells how the grammar was undertaken after the two books of eighty sermons, because grammar is the key to the understanding of those books. He insists, also, on the fact that the maintenance of religion depends on the encouragement of learning, and reminds his readers of the evil years before Dunstan and Aethelwold, when there was scarcely an English priest who could write or even read a Latin letter.

  28

  In many of the MSS. which contain the grammar it is followed by a Latin-English Vocabulary, the earliest of its kind extant, arranged according to subjects, not alphabetically, and largely derived from the etymologies of St. Isidore. That it is Aelfric’s is proved not only by its inclusion in the manuscript containing the grammar, without any pause between them, but also by the presence of many words characteristic of his vocabulary.

  29

  The Colloquy, of which only two MSS. exist, is exceedingly interesting both in method and in theme. It is in the form of a conversation between the teacher, a novice and a number of other persons representing the various occupations of the day. The ploughman tells how he leads his oxen to the field, while the neatherd, like Caedmon in Bede’s famous story, takes them at night to the stable and stands watching over them for fear of thieves. The shepherd guards his sheep against the wolf and makes butter and cheese. The hunter captures harts and hares and is rewarded by the king with horses and collars, while the merchant trades in palls and silks, gold and precious stones, strange garments, perfumes, wine and oil, ivory, brass, tin, glass and silver. Last of all, the novice describes the division of his day, and how, if he sleeps through the bell for nocturnes, his comrades awaken him with rods. The authorship is proved by a note in one of the MSS.: Hanc sententiam latini sermonis olim Aelfricus Abbas composuit, qui meus fuit magister, sed tamen ego Aelfricus Bata multas postea huic addidi appendices. The colloquy has an Old English gloss, which is certainly not the work of Aelfric. The additions made by Aelfric’s disciple to the text, with the object of providing more matter for practice, in every way destroy the simplicity and neatness of the original.

  30

  In one MS. of Aelfric’s Grammar we meet the famous version of the Distichs of Cato. Hence, there has been a certain tendency to ascribe these also to Aelfric. They are marked by clearness of expression and show great sense of adaptability. They seem to be a combination of two translations, one to distich 68, the other to the end. Two of the distichs are taken from Aelfric’s Deuteronomy, and the fact that one of the three MSS. in which these distichs are contained also includes the Grammar, both works being written in one hand, places them, at any rate, in close connection with Aelfric’s school.  15  It is, perhaps, best to regard them as the result of Aelfric’s influence.

  31

  These school-books were followed in 996 or 997 by a third series of homilies, The Lives, or Passions of the Saints. These homilies, also, are introduced by two prefaces, one in Latin explaining the origin and occasion of the work, while the other is an English letter addressed to the ealdorman Aethelweard, the father of the founder of Cerne abbey. Thou knowest, beloved [says Aelfric in the letter] that we translated in two former books the passions and lives of the saints whom the English nation honours with festivals: now, it has seemed good to us that we

  32

should write this book concerning the sufferings and lives of the saints whom monks in their offices  16  honour among themselves.  The Latin preface further states that only such lives have been chosen from the Vitae Patrum as are suitable for narration to the lay attendants at monastic services.

  33

  The best manuscript of this work  17  contains thirty-three lives, six general homilies and a narrative without title on the legend of Abgarus, thus, like the two previous series, comprising forty sermons in all. They are arranged in the order of the church year, beginning with an address on the nativity of Christ, ending with the life of St. Thomas (21 December) and including an interesting Rogation Sunday homily on auguries, witchcraft, etc., and one (25 August) in which we have an early appearance of the devil of the later mysteries.

  34

  Besides the Vitae Patrum, which is the only source mentioned by Aelfric in his preface, other authorities cited are Ambrosius, Augustine, Jerome, Terentian, Abbo of Fleury, Bede and St. Oswald. The story of St. Swithun is partly based on a letter of Lanferth, but owes still more to local tradition.

  35

  These homilies exhibit the style of Aelfric in its maturity; only one, that on the Nativity, is in prose; the others are in the loose alliterative rhythm which he had already used in some of his previous sermons. In the long run, this excessive recourse to alliteration became an obstacle to clear expression and was alien to the true development of prose; but the monotonous rhythm, so closely akin to the ballad verse of the common people was, no doubt, very attractive to lay audiences. The Lives, since they deal with fact and not theory, throw less light on Aelfric’s doctrine than the earlier homilies; but, on the other hand, they provide many valuable side-lights on contemporary manners, and on the life of the homilist himself. The most interesting of all are those of the English saints, St. Oswald, St. Edmund and St. Swithun. In the first two we see portrayed the ideal king of the Old English, protector and benefactor of his people. Oswald breaks in pieces the silver dish on which his meat is served, and commands Aidan to distribute the pieces among the suppliants for his charity; St. Edmund after his subjects have been slaughtered by the Danes no longer desires life. “This I wish in my mind, that I should not be left alone after my dear thanes, who in their very beds, with their wives and children, have, by these sea-goers, suddenly been slain.” In the life of St. Swithun we have reminiscences of the happy time under king Edgar, “when the kingdom still continued in peace, so that no fleet was heard of save that of the folk themselves who held this land.”

  36

  The date of these Lives is known almost to the very year. They are not dedicated, like the others, to archbishop Sigeric, because he had died in 995; and they cannot have been written earlier than 996, because in the sermon on Ash Wednesday Aethelwold, who was canonised in that year, is spoken of as “the holy bishop who now worketh miracles.” But, as Aelfric says that he borrowed his homily on St. Edmund from Abbo of Fleury’s life of that saint (986), which came into his hands a few years after it was written, they cannot well be much later than 997.

  37

  Appended to the best MSS. of the Lives of the Saints is an English version of Alcuin’s Interrogationes Sigewulfi Presbyteri in Genesin. It begins with a preface and introduction on Alcuin and the Latin text, which consisted of a series of catechetical answers to questions on Genesis, asked by Alcuin’s friend, Sigewulf. Then follow the translated interrogationes, abridged from a hundred and seventy-eight to forty-eight essentials. The first fifteen are on the moral law of the Creator and His creatures; the next five, relating to the material creation, contain an insertion on the planets, derived from Bede by Aelfric, who was devoted to the study of astronomy; then come four on the manifestations of the Trinity in nature. These are succeeded by a series on man’s creation in the divine image and his end, followed by others on the origin of evil. Last of all are questions on the ages of the world, and the whole is concluded by a creed and the doxology. Aelfric is nowhere stated to be the author, but the similarity of the translation to his acknowledged work in style, structure and rhythm enables us to ascribe it to him with some confidence.

  38

  Two other works, closely connected in style and theme, also unsigned, but attributed to Aelfric on the ground of style and diction, were probably composed soon after the Lives of the Saints. These are a translation of the Hexameron of St. Basil, and a version of the De Temporibus of Bede. The former, which is a sermon on the six days of creation, the fall of the angels, the day of rest, the expulsion from Paradise and the atonement of Christ, is by no means a literal translation, but is partly original, and partly derived from Bede’s Commentary on Genesis. It is found in the best MSS., refers to former sermons and has Aelfric’s loose alliterative rhythm. It shows a close resemblance to the version of De Temporibus, which, as the compiler distinctly states, is not to be considered a homily. It is, indeed, a scientific treatise, adapted from Bede, but showing much independent learning in the matter of astronomy, the entry on the feast of the circumcision telling how the ancient year-systems began and were reckoned. It is almost certainly Aelfric’s, and was, probably, written between 991 and 995.

  39

  So far, all Aelfric’s works had been either of a homiletic or an educational character; but now, at the request of the ealdorman Aethelweard, he embarked somewhat reluctantly on the task of rendering the scriptures into the vernacular. For Aelfric had now spent the best years of his life in the service of the church and education, bringing nearer to his people the truths and sources of their religion and morality. He was now in advanced middle life, and felt keenly that these labours withdrew him from further study and from the contemplation of the supernatural, towards which his age, profession and, above all, the grievous state of earthly affairs, that seemed indeed to foretoken the end of the world, now drew him. At the same time, he had a mass of homiletic material ready, and, at a time when scarce anyone could read, he felt that the living voice of the preacher should be mainly used with the people. Hence, we find his version of the Bible esentially meant to be preached rather than read; he wrote for those who should teach the as yet unlettered people. The version was intended to be of the nature of a homily, and was not meant to be an accurate version of Holy Writ. Name lists, genealogies and difficult passages were left out.

  40

  Aelfric’s principal achievement in this department was editing the paraphrase of the first seven books of the Bible. It is certain, however, that his hand is not to be traced throughout. In the prefatory letter, which he addressed to Aethelweard, he reminds his friend how he had said that he need not labour any further in the book of Genesis than the story of Isaac, since another had translated it from that point to the end. In the MS. in the Cambridge University Library only chapters i–xxiv of Genesis are given, and Dietrich has observed that the style thenceforward to the end of Leviticus is essentially different. In the fourth book of Moses Aelfric’s style is once more recognisable, and alliteration again occurs. It is possible that Aelfric may have worked over another translation of the books of Numbers and Deuteronomy; but he himself tells us, in De Veteri et de Novo Testamento, that he had translated Joshua and Judges at the request of Aethelweard. The book of Judges was added afterward; it was probably intended originally to be included, like the homily on the Maccabees, in the series of Saints’ Lives. It is composed entirely in Aelfric’s usual rhythm, and ends with a short notice of the good kings Alfred, Aethelstan and Edgar, who put to flight the Danes and fostered religion and learning. With the exception of Daniel the work consists merely of extracts. Since the Lives were written in 996, and other homiletic work had followed, these paraphrases seem to date from 997, and, in their completed state, from 998. It is important to note in them that Aelfric merely signs himself as monk. They were, probably, the last work done for Aethelweard, who is not heard of after 999. But Aelfric’s close friendship with his son continued and bore important fruit in later years.

  41

  Three other biblical paraphrases or homilies may be traced to Aelfric. In his tractate on the Old Testament he observes that he formerly made in English a discourse or short exposition of Job, and also that he had turned into English the book of Esther. The MS. of Job is lost, but a copy printed by L’Isle in 1638 shows unmistakable signs of Aelfric’s workmanship, and the theme resembles that of his other works; thus, a passage on Antichrist is strongly reminiscent of some sentences in the preface to the first series of homilies, and the whole treatment corresponds to that of the thirty-fifth homily of the second series. Esther, which also exists only in L’Isle’s transcript, seems originally to have belonged to the Saints’ Lives. It is a series of extracts in Aelfric’s customary alliterative rhythm.

  42

  Aelfric also mentions, in the same place, a work on the apocryphal book of Judith, but without claiming the authorship. “It is also,” he says, “arranged in English in our manner, as an example to you men, that you should defend your land with weapons against the hostile host.” These words were formerly supposed to refer to the beautiful poem Judith, which is found in a fragmentary state in the Beowulf MS.; but Assmann has shown that an Old English version of the story contained in two MSS.  18  has all the characteristics of Aelfric’s style. Moreover, it contains many passages parallel with others in his preface to the Old Testatment.

  43

  About the year 998, Aelfric was asked by bishop Wulfsige of Sherborne to compose a pastoral for him. It was written in the bishop’s name, and, after a short preface addressed to Wulfsige, adomonishing him to reprove his clergy more frequently for their neglect of the ecclesiastical canons, it treats of celibacy, clerical duties, synods and the Benedictine rule, ending with a warning against clerical attendance at lykewakes. This concludes the first part. The second is entirely concerned with the rite of the presanctified and the proper length of time for the reservation of the sacrament, and expresses the same views that Aelfric had already advanced in the homilies, based upon St. Augustine (probably the Enarratio in Psalm Xcviii), through the famous Ratramnus, opponent of Paschasius Radbertus, abbot of Corby. It thus shows Aelfric as a keen follower of contemporary “science” abroad. Aelfricsided, seemingly, against Radbertus; his opinions are nowhere exactly reflected to-day, though the obscure Augustinian “spiritual,” rendered in English “g[char]stlice,” did the good service of giving us editions of him in the sixteenth century, when he was quoted by Foxe and others. It is an anachronism to impute any fully developed modern opinion to the tenth

  44

century.  About the same time must be dated Aelfric’s Advice to a Spiritual Son, translated from St. Basil’s work with the same title. The author is not expressly named, but, from internal evidence, we know that he was a Benedictine monk, and that he had already written about Basil. It speaks of St. Basil’s Hexameron in almost the very words Aelfric used earlier; it contains passages on St. Basil closely resembling some in the Interrogationes Sigewulfl Presbyteri; and, inclusive of the preface, it is composed in Aelfric’s loose rhythm. The subject is the admonition of a spiritual father to his son to lead a righteous life.

  45

  In a manuscript in the Bodleian,  19  under the general heading Sermones Lupi, occurs a homily On the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Ghost, which, owing to its presence in that manuscript, was formerly ascribed to Wulfstan. But that Aelfric composed a homily on this subject we know from his own statement:  20 : “Sevenfold gifts he giveth yet to mankind, concerning which I wrote formerly in a certain other writing in the English speech.” This homily is seventh from the superscription, which only seems to apply to those immediately following it (two in number). We are, therefore, as Napier in his work on Wulfstan pointed out, justified in rejecting the ascription of the seventh homily to Wulfstan, and it may be by Aelfric.

  46

  In 1005 Aelfric was called from Wessex to Mercia. The thane Aethelmaer, who had formerly invited him to Cerne, and for whom so many of his works had been composed, had recently acquired two estates in Oxfordshire, which he, in turn, presented to his newly founded abbey of Eynsham. These are interesting on account of their connection with the hero of Maldon, himself a patron of learning, who had fallen some fourteen years before, fighting against the Danes.  21  Hither Aethelmaer retired for the rest of his life, and hither he summoned Aelfric as first abbot. The monastery followed the Benendictine rule, and it was for the instruction of its inmated that Aelfric wrote, soon after his instalment there, the Latin Letter to the Monks of Eynsham, to which reference has already been made. His object was to give an account of the rule as practised at Winchester, and he says that the source of his information is bishop Aethelwold’s De Consuetudine Monachorum, by which title, as we have already seen, he refers, in all probability, to Aethelwold’s Regularis Concordia.

  47

  It is in the preface to this letter that Aelfric speaks of the years spent by him in the school of Aethelwold, and, as a further acknowledgement of the debt he owed his great master, he composed soon afterwards, in Latin, his Vita Aethelwoldi.. In the preface to this Life, Aelfric calls himself abbot and alumnus of Winchester, and, greeting Kenulph, bishop of Winchester, and the brethren of the monastery there, he says that it now seems right to him to recall to men’s memory some of the deeds of their father and great teacher, St. Aethelwold (d. 984), who had been dead for twenty years. Since Kenulph was not appointed to the see till 1006, and died either the same year or the next, the Life must have been finished about this time. Of the two recensions of the Life, one, by Aelfric alone, shows his usual characteristics; the other is apparently Aelfric’s life “written over” by Wulfstan, precentor of Winchester, with additional matter concerning posthumous miracles.

  48

  Besides these Latin works, in the first year of his office as abbot, Aelfric wrote an English letter addressed to a thane called Wulfgeat, “at Ylmandun,” a place which has been identified with Ilmington, about thirty miles from Eynsham. It begins with a six-line address to Wulfgeat, in which Aelfric refers to former English writings, lent to the thane, and to his promise to lend him more. Since he calls himself abbot, and since in 1006 Wulfgreat fell into disgrace and lost all his possessions, being supplanted by Eadric the famous traitor, the letter was evidently written in 1005 or 1006.

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  It was probably two or three years after this that Aelfric composed his treatise on the Old and the New Testaments— De Veteri et de Novo Testamento.. It begins with a long address to Sigferth or Sigweard, a thane living at Easthealon, the modern Asthall, which is only twelve miles distant from Eynsham. Aelfric begins by saying that Sigferth had very often asked him for English books, but that he would not grant his request till the thane had proved his sincerity by good deeds. But since he had complained to Aelfric that he could not obtain his works, the abbot had written this especially for him. The tractate, which is based on St. Augustine’s De Doctrina Christiana, is, in substance, a popular introduction to the contents of the Bible. and falls into two parts. The first, on the Old Testament, is especially valuable because, in the course of his summary of the various books, Aelfric gives the particulars to which we have already referred, concerning his translations from the Bible. The second part, on the New Testament, begins with the story of John the Baptist, treats of the four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, the epistles and the book of Revelation, and, after certain allegories, some words on the duties of the three stations of life—workers, praying folk and fighters—and a description of the capture of Jerusalem by Titus, ends with an admonition against the Teutonic habit of setting folk to drink beyond their measure—a native pleasantry which, it seems, Sigferth had endeavoured to impose upon Aelfric when visited by him.

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  It was to the same nobleman that Aelfric, about the same time, addressed his letter on the celibacy of the clergy, for Sigferth entertained among his household an anchorite who affirmed that the marriage of mass priests (i.e. full priests as distinguished from “preostas,” a generic name including deacons and minor orders as well) was permissible. But Aelfric, though loth to differ from this “good friend,” if he were a God-fearing man, could not refrain from pointing out that the earlier usage of the church required celibacy from all the clergy, and the letter is a prolonged argument on this theme.

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Note 14. The manuscripts of these homilies vary much in arrangement of matter, and it has been supposed that three recensions existed. The first answers to Thorpe’s edition of the Cambridge MS., in which the two parts are kept asunder and all the prefaces are retained, although other matter is also found. The second is represented by such MSS. as C.C.C.C. 188, which has only the first set of sermons, no prefaces, some sermons divided and the homily on the nativity of Our Lady following that on the birth of St. John. It has also a new sermon for a confessor’s feast, with the statement that, although the author had written it for another (Aethelwold, bishop of Winchester, 1987–1993), yet he was to have a copy of it himself. Hence this recension dates after 1997. Thirdly, there are several MSS. in which both parts are recast together in the order of the church year, with additional sermons. [ back ]Note 15. The MS. is Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 9 [ back ]Note 16. i.e. the customary Divine Hours, daily chanted by the monks in choir, a public service which the secular clergy could not, of course, maintain. The office-books for the two, probably, also differed. [ back ]Note 17. Cott. Jul. E. VII. [ back ]Note 18. Corpus Christi Coll. 303 and Cott. Oth. B. 10. [ back ]Note 19. Junius 99. [ back ]Note 20. De Veteri et de Novo Testamento, Preface. [ back ]Note 21. See p. 144. [ back ]

§ 5. Wulfstan.

Aelfric’s last important work was a pastoral letter written for Wulfstan, who, from 1002 to 1023, was archbishop of York, and, till 1016, held also the see of Worcester, being thus a neighbour of the abbot of Eynsham. It falls into two parts, of which the first speaks of the three periods of the law, and goes on to the theme already treated in the letters to Wulfsige and Sigferth. The subject of the marriage of the clergy is reviewed from a historical standpoint, and the letter further admonishes the clergy on the celebration of the Eucharist, as their great function, and treats of the seven grades of holy orders. The second part deals with the use of the holy oils and the administration of the last sacraments to the dying. Mass was not to be said in laymen’s houses, nor churches used for worldly purposes. The work must have been composed after 1014, since it contains a quotation from Aethelred’s laws of that date; and, probably, before 1016, when Wulfstan’s connection with Worcester came to an end. The epistles were written in Latin and translated into English by Aelfric himself, at Wulfstan’s request, in the following year.

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  Aelfric’s life was now drawing to a close. The exact date of his death is not known, but he died, probably, soon after 1020. His last years were passed in times not favourable for literary work. They were eventful years for England, for they witnessed the Danish sack of Canterbury in 1011, the murder of St. Alphege by the Danes at Greenwich, the flight of Aethelred before Sweyn, the strife of Edmund Ironside and Canute and Canute’s final triumph.

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  Aelfric was not only the greatest prose writer, he was also the most distinguished English-writing theologian, in his own time, and for five centuries afterwards. Yet he was in no sense an original thinker; his homilies, as he frankly states, are borrowed from others, and in them he reflects the thought of the west, especially the teachings of St. Augustine its great Father. His chief object was to convey to the simple and unlearned the teaching of the Fathers; and in this he was pre-eminently successful. If Dunstan and Aethelwold first kindled the flame, it was Aelfric who, through dark years of strife and warfare, when men’s thoughts were absorbed by the pressing anxieties of their daily life, kept the lamp alight and reminded them of spiritual ideals. His influence lasted long after his death, as is shown by the many late manuscripts of his writings, some of which date from the twelfth century; and if it had not been for his faithful, modest labour, the difficulties of Lanfranc and Anselm would have been even greater than they were.

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  As he himself tells us, he took Alfred for his model, but, in ease and grace, his style far surpasses that of his great predecessor. Both Aelfric and Wulfstan write and translate in a free style, but it is not longer the gossiping colloquialism of Alfred. English had become a literary language, polished in the cloisters with long use as a vehicle for translation and original works. In the cloisters Latin was still a living language, and hence Latin constructions became common. The necessity of having to express difficult ideas in a form intelligible to ignorant men helped Aelfric in his choice of words and in his effort after lucidity, while, with the instinct of a true teacher, he refused to be led astray by the example of Latin syntax and preferred simple constructions. Unfortunately, as time went on, he deferred more and more to the preferences of his audience, and debased his prose by throwing it into the rhythmical alliterative form so popular with the vulgar. Perhaps it was felt that a more pompous, rhetorical style than that of ordinary speech should be used in treating of solemn themes. However that may be, the later, florid manner which Aelfric affected in the Saints’ Lives, and in some of his other treatises, is distinctly inferior to that of the first two series of homilies. His prose is seen at its best in simple narrative, and, to appreciate the difficulties under which he laboured, the homilies on the Eucharist and on the Creation (both philosophic subjects) should be read together. The first is confused and complex, compared with the flowing ease of the great Father upon whose work it was based and, obviously, the language was not, at this time, equal to abstruse metaphysical speculation. The second, which deals with a simpler subject, is clear and comprehensive. Aelfric shows power in his treatment of pathos as well as of philosophy, when both are simple; as may be seen in the homilies on the Holy Innocents and on the Creation. But, whatever his theme, he is always logical and persuasive, and the “sweet reasonableness” of his methods especially distinguishes his sermons from the fiery denunciations, and the direct, strenuous language, of his contemporary and friend archbishop Wulfstan, who goes to the point without any of the abstract moralising to be found in Aelfric. Wulfstan delivers his Christian doctrine as a statement of facts, and his phrases have a legal smack about them; while Aelfric loves what has some philosophy in it, for even his simplicity is often profound. In a word, Wulfstan is a judge and legalist, Aelfric a contemplative student.

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  This difference in tone is explained partly by temperament, partly by the circumstances of their lives. Aelfric, following the quiet industrious routine of duty behind the shelter of the abbey walls, heard only the rumours of the strife that raged without; Wulfstan, absorbed in practical, political life, was brought face to face with the anguish and the practical needs of the time. He was already bishop of Worcester when, in 1002, he was appointed, also, to the see of York. In 1014 he assisted in the compilation of the laws of Aethelred, drawn up at the synod of Eynsham; he died on 28 May, 1023. Thus, his period of office coincided with that of the most disastrous and devastating invasions of the country.

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  It is extremely difficult to determine exactly which of the homilies in the Bodleian  22  are really Wulfstan’s. Owing to the superscription at the beginning of the first, Hic incipiunt sermones Lupi, all were ascribed to him by Wanley. Napier has pointed out, however, that this heading was, probably, taken from another manuscript of the archbishop’s sermons, which were copied into a miscellaneous collection containing many others, of which the authorship is uncertain, or certainly not his. Of the fifty-three homilies in the Bodleian MS. only five are indisputably by Wulfstan. There are two immediately following the superscription, dealing with the Bible story,  23  and with the catholic faith  24 ; next follows a sermon  25  of which only parts are by Wulfstan, and which Napier, rejecting the passages he considers unauthentic, has divided into four portions  26 : on the Christian life, on Christ’s death, on Christ as the true friend and on the duties of Christians. Then comes the famous Address to the English  27 , and last of all a short exhortation  28  with the superscription Sermo Lupi, on the duty of Christians, full of metrical fragments, which can be separated from the context and show signs of sung verse united by alliteration or assonance. Of the remaining homilies, some, which occur in the same order in various manuscripts, are, possibly, by Wulfstan; many, such as the paraphrase of the poem called Be Domes Daege, and The Address of the Soul to the Body, must be entirely rejected; while others  29  appear also among the Blickling Homilies or the works of Aelfric. It is noteworthy that the homilies referred to above as possibly by Wulfstan are very similar in phraseology to the Old English laws drawn up at the council of Eynsham in 1014; and, as we know from his own statement that Wulfstan was responsible for the Latin paraphrase of these statutes, it is probable the English version was his also.

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  Of the five homilies which certainly can be ascribed to Wulfstan, the most powerful is the one entitled in the Bodleian MS. Sermo Lupi ad Anglos quando Dani maxime persecuti sunt eos, quod fuit in die Aethelredi regis, to which another MS. adds more explicitly that this was in anno millesimo xiiii ab incarnatione Domini nostri Jesus Christi, and another, in anno millesimo viii. But it is, indeed, applicable to any year in the ill-fated reign of Aethelred. The vices, evil deeds and cowardice of the English are scourged

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with a heavy hand; the English are likened to the Britons whom they have turned out, and are threatened with the same fate. The archbishop’s passionate patriotism breaks forth in the burning words with which he describes the desolation and demoralisation of the people, scattered like frightened sheep before the onset of the heathen, without a single leader to rally them to resistance. Villages are destroyed by fire, the new ministers are stripped of their holy things; father is turned against son and brother against brother; even the ancient bond of thane and thrall becomes loosened in this time of universal disintegration. And, like some Hebrew prophet, Wulfstan refuses to believe that the Almighty would have laid so heavy an affliction upon an innocent people; he sees in the crimes of the nation the cause, rather than the effect, of the long strife; this evil has come upon them for their sins; they have provoked the wrath of Heaven, and unless they repent and reform, a worse evil shall befall them. But there is still room for penitence, and the sermon ends on a gentler note: “Let us creep to Christ,” says the preacher, “and call upon Him unceasingly with trembling hearts, and deserve His mercy; let us love God and His laws, and faithfully perform what our sponsors promised for us at our baptism. Let us order rightly our words and our deeds, and keep faith with one another without guile, and frequently think upon the great judgement that awaits us all; and protect ourselves against the flaming fire of hell; and let us earn for ourselves the glory and the joy which God has prepared for those who do His will on earth. So God help us. Amen.”  Here and there are traces of metrical character, sometimes assonant, sometimes alliterative, which may have been part of some pessimistic folk-ballads on England’s downfall.

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  Wulfstan’s style is much more vehement than that of Aelfric. He is preacher rather than teacher, appealing more to the emotions than to the reason of his hearers, fertile in concrete illustrations, and avoiding the subtle symbolism in which Aelfric delighted. His sentences, though not deficient in lucidity, are very long; synonym is heaped on synonym and clause upon clause; yet the chanting sense of rhythm is always present; epithets are balanced, and the effect is often heightened by the use of antithesis. But, as might be expected from one whose life was so much absorbed by the administration of public affairs, his style is that of the rhetorician rather than of the philosopher.

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  In addition to the homilies already mentioned, several isolated tracts of the same nature by unknown authors survive. Among these may be noted the Life of St. Guthlac and of St. Swithun, the former translated from the Latin of Felix of Croyland, and, on the ground that one MS.  30  is in the same handwriting as Aelfric’s Pentateuch  31 , often attributed to him; the latter a mere fragment, which is also supposed by some scholars to be his. There are also the Life of St. Neot, and of St. Mary of Egypt, which may, possibly, be his.

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Note 22. Junius 99. [ back ]Note 23. Wanley 1, Napier 2. [ back ]Note 24. Wanley 2, Napier 3. [ back ]Note 25. Wanley 4. [ back ]Note 26. Napier XIV, XX, XXI, XXII. [ back ]Note 27. Wanley 5, Napier 33. [ back ]Note 28. Wanley 6, Napier 34. [ back ]Note 29. XLIX, LIV and LV. [ back ]Note 30. Cott. Vesp. D. XXI. [ back ]Note 31. Bod. Laud. E. 19. [ back ]

§ 6. Byrhtferth.

Another renowned contemporary of Aelfric was the monk Byrhtferth, whose writings are chiefly concerned with mathematics. He lived about 980, and is said to have been a pupil of Abbo. Leland says he was called Thorneganus. He seems to have known some of Dunstan’s earlier disciples, and to have lived at Canterbury for a time. His reputation as an English writer rests on his Handboc or Enchiridion, a miscellany preserved in only one MS.  32 . It begins with a descriptive calendar, and then follow short treatises of a mathematical and philological nature. After these come three theological tracts, on The Ages of the World, The Loosing of Satan and The Seven Sins. The collection concludes with two homilies, one entitled Ammonitio Amisi paet

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is freondlic mynegung  33 , and the other on the four cardinal virtues. The sermon on the loosing of Satan seems to indicate that it was composed towards the close of the tenth century, and this date is corroborated by what other information we possess about the author.  34   Like Aelfric, Byrhtferth was a product of St. Aethelwold’s monastic reform, but his scientific leanings differentiated him remarkably from the greater homilists.

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Note 32. Oxf. Ash. 328. [ back ]Note 33. reminder. [ back ]Note 34. Besides these English treatises Byrhtferth was also responsible for Latin commentaries on Bede’s De Temporum Ratione and De Natura Rerum and two essays entitled De Principiis Mathematicis and De Institutione Monachorum a Vita Dustani has also been attributed to him. [ back ]

§ 7. Lindisfarne, Rushworth, and West Saxon Glosses.

Besides these homilies and scientific treatises, there were composed, during the tenth century, three English versions of the Gospels, known as the Lindisfarne, Rushworth and West Saxon glosses. The Latin text of the Lindisfarne Gospels  35 , contained in a magnificent manuscript, adorned with beautiful illuminations, was written about the year 700; and it was not till at least two hundred and fifty years later, when it had been removed to Chester-le-Street, near Durham, for safety, that the interlinear North Northumbrian gloss was added by Aldred, a priest of that place. The gloss gives many variant English equivalents for the Latin words. Aldred himself, however, seems to have written only the latter part of the gloss, that beginning at St. John V, v, 10, in a new hand, though the earlier portion was, probably, made under his supervision. The gloss is of the greatest importance from a philological point of view, since it is our most valuable authority for the Northumbrian dialect of the middle of the tenth century.

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  Equally interesting are the Rushworth Gospels.  36  The Latin text, which differs very slightly from that of the Lindisfarne MS., was, perhaps, written in the eighth century, while the gloss dates from the second half of the tenth. It falls into two distinct portions, the first of which, in the dialect of North Mercia, was written by Farman, a priest of Harewood, seven miles north-east of Leeds. This portion, which includes the gospel of St. Matthew and part of chapters i and ii of St. Mark, begins as a gloss, and, later, becomes again a gloss, but, in the main, it is a fairly free version of the Latin text. The second part, in a dialect which has been called South Northumbrian by Lindelöf, was written by Oweun, and shows, very strongly, the influence of the Lindisfarne glosses, which must have been before the writer as he worked, since he often goes astray from the Latin text to follow Aldred’s version. It seems probable that Farman, who was a good Latin scholar, had made his gloss as far as St. Mark ii, 15, when the Lindisfarne MS. came into his hands. He then entrusted the task to Owun, who was a less accomplished linguist, and who, whenever he was confronted by a difficulty, resorted to the Lindisfarne gloss for its solution. It may be that Farman chose Owun as one knowing a dialect closely akin to that of Lindisfarne.

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  There also exists in six MSS. a West Saxon version of the Gospels, which, owing to a note in one MS. 37 —ego Aelfricus scripsi hunc librium in monasterio Ba[char]honio et dedi Brihtwoldo preposito—was formerly ascribed to Aelfric of Eynsham. If we suppose this Brihtwold to be the same as the bishop of that name, who held the see of Sherborne from 1006–1046, as he is here called prepositus, we may conclude that the Corpus MS. was written before 1006. It certainly belongs to the first quarter of the eleventh century and is not of Aelfric’s authorship, for it in no wise agrees with his description of his own work on the New Testament. He tells us that he had translated pieces from the New Testament; but this is a full version. The other MSS. are later, and one of them, in the Cambridge University Library, contains also the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, which provided legendary material for later medieval homilists and for the growth of the Arthurian legend in respect of Joseph of Arimathaea.

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Note 35. Cott. Nero D. IV. [ back ]Note 36. So called because the MS. in which they are contained was formerly owned by J. Rushworth, clerk of the House of Commons during the Long Parliament. [ back ]Note 37. Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, CXL. [ back ]

§ 8. Legends of the Holy Rood.

The early Christian legends, indeeds, and more particularly such as mark the continuance of Jewish traditions and the gradual diffusion of Christianity in the east, seem to have had a special attraction for English writers of this period. There are two legends connected with the Holy Rood—one with the growth of its wood, the other with the history of the cross after the crucifion. The legend of the Holy Rood itself is the same as the original story of Cynewulf’s poems. It will be remembered that St. Helena was reputed to be of British origin.

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  The oldest English version of the legend of the growth of the wood is found in a Ms. in the Bodleian (343), whichcontains also fifty-one homilies by Aelfric. The manuscript dates only from the twelfth century, but as the other contents are copies of eleventh century originals, it is reasonable to suppose that the cross legend also was composed at an earlier period. This theory is borne out by the language, which Napier considers too archaic for the twelfth century. From a literary point of view, as well as linguistically, the version is of the greatest interest, as showing the development of English prose. In its Original eleventh century form, it represented, perhaps, the best tradition of the literary West Saxon language developed in the cloisters, and the grace and ease of the story show considerable mastery of the art of narrative.

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  The theme ultimately depends on the Jewish legends contained in the Book of Adam and the Book of Enoch, and it had originally no connection with Christianity. The story frequently occurs in medieval literature (as, for instance, in the South English Legendary and the Cursor Mundi), and a brief outline of it may therefore be given here. Unfortunately the earlier part of the legend in its Latin form, treating of the history of the rood to the time of Moses, is missing in the English text. The story shapes itself as follows: Adam being on the point of death, Eve and Seth go to Paradise to ask the guardian angel for the healing oil of life. Seth, as fallen man, is denied entrance to Paradise, and instead of the oil the angel gives him three pips of cedar, cypress and pine. When Seth returns to his father, he finds Adam already dead; he places the three pips under Adam’s tongue, and, God having given Adam’s body to Michael, it is buried by the four archangels in Paradise. The pips fructify in the ground, and from them spring three rods, which remain green until the time of Moses. The Old English version begins at this point and tells how Moses, having led the children of Israel over the Red Sea, lies down to rest, and, in the morning, finds that three rods have sprung up, one at his head, and one at each side. With these rods he makes sweet the bitter waters, and the host continues its journey to Arabia. Hither David, whom the legend represents as contemporary with Moses, is sent to demand the rods, and it is revealed to him in a vision that they betoken the Trinity.  38  He carries them to Jerusalem, where there is a pit of water so bitter that none can taste of it. The rods are placed in it, and they join together into a mighty tree, the growth of which is marked by silver rings. After the death of David, Solomon attempts to use the tree for the building of the Temple; but, owing to the fact that it continually alters in length, this proves impossible, and it remains untouched within the sanctuary. Finally, when the Jews seek for a tree on which to crucify Christ, they remember this rood, and use part of it for the cross.

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  The legend of the finding of the cross by St. Helena is entirely Christian in origin, and is cognate to the version in The Golden Legend of Jacobus a Voragine, and in the Bollandist Acta Sanctorum for the fourth of May, and it is the same theme as that treated so beautifully by Cynewulf in his Elene.

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  An important legend cycle, to which attention has recently been drawn, is that of the letter sent from Heaven on Sunday observance. It is found in Old English in four of Wulfstan’s homilies, and in two separate versions (C.C.C.C. 140 and 162). Of the legends printed by Cockayne, that of Jamnes and Mambres has quite a modern “physical” flavour. The fact of its being a mere fragment, and breaking off when just about to become dull, saves it in the eyes of all lovers of ghost-tales.

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Note 38. “Cypressus tacnæ[char] pone fæder; Cedrus tacnæ[char] pone sunæ Pinus tacnæ[char] pone halæ gast.” [ back ]

§ 9. Legends of the East.

In addition to other legends of a sacred character there are others of a more worldly nature, the most remarkable being the (suppositious) Letter from Alexander to Aristotle,  39 The Wonders of the East 40  and

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the story of Apollonius of Tyre.  41  The first two are closely connected with the eastern legend of Alexander the Great, which had taken shape before the Christian era in a work known as the pseudo-Kallisthenes, which was translated into Latin before 340 by the so-called Julius Valerius. The two Alexander legends, as we have them, are very faithful translations from Latin originals, each chapter of The Wonders of the East being preceded by a copy of the text on which it is founded. They are important in the history of literature as proving the interest taken by the educated clergy of the eleventh century in the Latin legend cycles. Rather later than these two works, and also of eastern origin, is the Old English version of Apollonius of Tyre, of which only half is extant, a version of the same theme as that treated in the 153rd chapter of the Gesta Romanorum. It tells of the wooing of the king of Antioch’s daughter by Apollonius of Tyre, and how her father, to prevent her marriage, required her suitors to solve a riddle or to be beheaded. The early appearance of this legend in the vernacular is especially interesting, since Gower’s version of the story in his Confessio Amantis provided the theme for Pericles of Tyre. The presence of these legends in Old English is peculiarly significant as indicating the oncoming flood of foreign literature. Hitherto, the priest had been the story-teller, after the heroic minstrelsy of earlier days had passed away; henceforth, the lighter touch of the deliberate tale-teller was to be heard in English.

Note 39. MS. Vitell. A. XV. [ back ]Note 40. Cott. Tib. B. v. [ back ]Note 41. C.C.C.C. S. 18. [ back ]

§ 10. Quasi-scientific works.

From these we must turn to consider the quasi-scientific works of this period, which have all been printed by Cockayne in his Leechdoms, Wortcunning and Starcraft in Early England. As might be expected, they have little literary value, but are extremely interesting from a historical standpoint, since they throw many valuable side-lights on the manners and social conditions of the time. Cockayne’s collection begins with the Herbarium that passes under the name of Apuleius, a work stating the various ills for which each plant is a remedy. It appears in four MSS., the one printed by Cockayne  42  dating from the first half of the eleventh century. Following this is an English version of the Medicina de quadrupedibus of Sextus Placidus, about whom nothing is known, which describes the various kinds of animals and the use of their bodies in medicine.

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  Even more interesting is the leech-book in Cockayne’s second volume.  43  The author was evidently acquainted with the Greek and Latin authorities on medicine, for the work is full of their prescriptions, and Helias, patriarch of Jerusalem, is mentioned as having sent such prescriptions to King Alfred.

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  Lastly, Cockayne printed in his third volume two collections of miscellaneous recipes  44 , and a number of prognostications, interpretations of dreams and a horologium.  45  The first collection is extremely interesting on account of the heathen nature of many of the prescriptions, which require for their efficacy the repetition of charms. Some of these are mere gibberish, in which, however, fragments of Greek, Latin and Hebrew may be traced; others, such as the celebrated charm against the stitch, show close connection with Scandinavian mythology; while in some, such as the charm to bring home straying cattle, there is a curious mingling of Christian nomenclature and heathen superstition. All these works are deeply tinged with poetic feeling; and the desire to propitiate the powers that distribute storm and sunshine is visible throughout. The date of these compositions is not known, but most of the manuscripts belong to the eleventh century.

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  From the foregoing survey of English prose literature during the eleventh century it is clear that the language had attained considerable development as a literary medium. In the hands of Aelfric its vocabulary becomes less concrete, its construction more logical, and, though it was still seen to best advantage in simple narrative, it was moulded by him with fair success to philosophic requirements. But, in the years that followed the Norman conquest, the development of English prose met with a great check, and four hundred years elapsed before the vernacular was again employed with the grace and fluency of Aelfric.

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Note 42. Cott. Vitell. C. III. [ back ]Note 43. Printed from MS. Reg. 12 D. XVI. [ back ]

Note 44. MS. Harl. 585 and MS. Harl. 6258. [ back ]Note 45. Chiefly from MS. Cott. Tib. A. III. [ back ]

§ 11. The Ballads and Poems in The Chronicle.

The decline of Old English poetry cannot be so directly attributed to the Norman conquest. During the course of the tenth and eleventh centuries the classical rhetorical metre had already begun to deteriorate, and was being gradually replaced by the sung metre of the popular ballad. For the whole of our period we have only two great poems, the fragment of Judith in the Beowulf MS. and the East Anglian poem of Byrhtnoth’s death at Maldon. Both poems deal with the struggle against the same foe and both are in the alliterative rhetorical metre. Judith contains a fair number of lines which are undoubtedly clear types of sung verse, such as is found in the thirteenth century in Layamon’s Brut. The Battle of Maldon also contains two much alike.  46  The adoption of this metre, which, although ancient, here exhibits what are practically its first known traces in Old English literature, is carried to much greater lengths in the poems embedded in the Chronicle; and some observations upon this new metre called the “sung” or four-beat verse, as opposed to the declamatory or two-beat metre of the older poems, will be found in an appendix at the end of the volume.

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  The first poem in the Chronicle occurs under the year 937, and celebrates the glorious victory won by Aethelstan at Brunanburh. It is a markedly patriotic poem and shows deep feeling; its brilliant lyrical power, and the national enthusiasm evident throughout, have made it familiar, in one form or another, to all lovers of English verse. Great care was taken with the metre, which is the ancient rhetorical line.

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  Under the year 942 another poem in alliterative rhetorical metre occurs. It consists only of a few lines, and its subject is the liberation of the five boroughs, Leicester, Lincoln, Nottingham, Stam fordand Derby, “which were formerly Danish, constrained by need in the captive bonds of the heathen,” by Edmund, son of Edward the Elder. It has little poetic value; but it is distinguished by the same intense patriotism as is the verse on the battle of Brunanburh.

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  The first poem in sung verse contained in the Chronicle is that for 959, on the accession of King Edgar. It contains fortynine half lines, making twenty-four and a half full lines, connected, of which only about eight show alliteration. The lines are connected in the earlier form of rimeless rhythm, not strictly alliterative, though assonance is sometimes found. Metrically, it is our best preserved example. The theme is the prosperity of Edgar; how his wise rule was honoured far and wide, how he established peace in the land and how he was rewarded by God with the willing submission of kings and earls. Of one fault, however, says the chronicler, he was too often guilty, namely that he loved foreign ways and enticed outlanders into his dominions. The poem ends with a prayer that God may be more mindful of the king’s virtues than of his evil deeds, and that they may shield his soul from harm on its long journey hence.

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  The delight of the English in the peaceful rule of Edgar is still further shown by a poem in the old rhetorical metre which is variously given in the different recensions of the Chronicle under the years 972, 973 and 974, and relates the coronation of Edgar. The Peterborough chronicle has some lines which have been written as verse, but scansion seems to raise insurmountable difficulties. It can only be scanned on the assumption that we have an attempt to combine two-stress lines with four-stress rhythm, or an attempt to put a ballad into the form of the “higher” poetry. They tell how kings came from afar to do homage to Edgar, and how there was no fleet so daring as to threaten his dominions, or host so strong as to ravage the land while he ruled over it.

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  Another interesting ballad poem, on the troubles caused by Aelfhere and other rebels in the reign of Edgar’s son Edward, is found in the MS. known as Cott. Tib. B. IV. It is of nineteen half lines, or nine and one-half full lines. The linking system seems to be mostly alliteration, but rime and assonance show themselves most clearly where alliteration becomes absent or weak, as in

       

Godes wipersãecanGodes lage bräeconand mynstra tostaencton,and munecas todraefdon.

The verse is sung ballad-verse, and the alliteration what would be called irregular in rhetorical verse. It is uncertain whether what seems an opening verse really belongs to the song.

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  The murder of Edward, son of Edgar, at Corfesgeat, is related in a peculiarly distinctive poem, which is   83

quite clearly in sung verse, and shows traces of strophic arrangement. A later hand has tampered greatly with the original poem; some lines have, obviously, been lengthened, and the last six printed as verse do not scan as such, being, possibly, only rhythmic prose added afterwards. They are exactly like the irregular lines on Edgar’s death. Probably the chronicler took a popular ballad or ballads, broke it up, and attempted to destroy its sing-song character by the addition of end verses. This, and the strophic character of the original or originals, would account for its metrical variety and uncertainty. In several places we meet with half line tags, generally trimetric, once certainly in full tetrameter. The poem declares that no worse deed than the murder of Edward had ever been committed among the English since the invasion of Britain; men murdered him, but God glorified him; and he who was before an earthly king is now, after death, a heavenly saint. His earthly kinsmen would not avenge him, but his heavenly Father has avenged him amply, and they who would not bow to him living now bend humbly on their knees to his dead bones. Thus, we may perceive that men’s plans are as naught before God’s. The words “Men murdered him, but God glorified him,” are alliterative, and seem like a refrain; and the whole poem is, metrically, one of the most interesting of the series.  There is a long interval before the next verses, which tell of the siege of Canterbury, and the capture of archbishop Aelfhëah (Alphege) in IOII. They consist of twelve half lines of sung verse, and are, evidently, a quotation from some ballad commemorating these disasters. They lament the imprisonment of him who was erstwhile head of Christendom and England, and the misery that men might now behold in the unhappy city whence first came the joys of Christianity. There are some difficulties in scansion, and the variant readings in certain MSS.  47 , though they can be restored to something like proper metrical harmony, show what mishandling these songs underwent when written down by the scribes.

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  The metre of the next poem is much better preserved. It is of the same Layamon sung verse type, but shows a regular union of each two half lines by rime and assononce. Where this fails, we can at once suspect that the scribe has tampered with the original version. The assonance is wholly southeastern. Its subject is the capture and cruel fate of the aetheling Alfred, and it shows a strong spirit of partisanship against Godwin. This is led up to by the prose account telling how Alfred came to Winchester to see his mother, but was hindered and captured by Godwin. The poem relates how Godwin scattered Alfred’s followers, killing some and imprisoning others, and how the aetheling was led bound to Ely, blinded aboard ship and given over to the monks. It gives us the important architectural statement (since the old minster long has perished) that he was buried at the west end in the south porch “close to the steeple.” The story is told in twenty couplets of sung half lines (40 half lines). The few lines that do not rime can easily be restored.  48 

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  Many of the features of this poem are paralleled in another on a like theme, the arrival of Edward Aetheling, son of Edmund Ironside, in England in 1057, his illness and his death, without seeing his kinsman the king. The story is that of the death of the last of the kingly line. The poem is in sung verse, the half lines being mainly arranged in pairs of one short and one fuller half line, a combination which is the great feature of this poem, whose strophic connection depends absolutely neither on rime or assonance, but rather on rhythm. The poem is in four uneven tirades. The first two are ended by a single half line as a tag (no. 1, of 3 full lines + tag; no. 2, of 5 full lines + half line tag). The last two tirades (no. 3, of 3 full lines; no. 4, of 4 full lines) are without half line tags. The tags may here have been lost in copying.

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  It is noticeable that all these poems in sung verse, which seem to be based on popular ballads, are characterised by deep patriotic feeling. This, however, is wanting in the alliterative rhetorical lines on the death of Edward the Confessor, which merely tell how he had reigned for twenty-four years and had governed illustriously Welsh, Scots, Britons, Angles and Saxons.

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  Another passage in sung verse dealing with the marriage of Margaret, the sister of Edward Aetheling, to Malcolm of Scotland, and recording her distaste for marriage and her desire for convent life, seems to be in ten sung half lines, of which the first four have been completely wrecked. The last four are perfect and of great interest. Less obscure are the fragments on the marriage of earl Ralph of Norwich, the first couplet of which [char]aer waes [char]aet bryd ealo [char]aet waes manegra manna bealo. shows, unmistakeably, its ballad origin.

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  The last verses of this class are those on the reign of William the Conqueror. Earle arranged some twelve lines as poetry, but the whole passage claims similar treatment, since, in the portion which he has printed as prose, there occur examples of full rime and also of full assonance, connecting the half lines in the passages he has not so written. The whole passage seems to be derived from at least two ballads against the Norman conqueror. The first begins “He rìxade ófer Ènglaeláand” and tells of the king’s intimate acquaintance with his dominions, so that he knew the owner of every hide of land and how much it was worth; then, how he

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conquered Wales and Scotland and, if he had lived two years longer, would have won Ireland, also, without weapon strife. This, which is unrimed, is followed by the passage “Càstelas hé leuml;t w&ygrave;rce´n,” which is invaluable because of its strong Kentish assonances. These lines tell, in bitter words, of the king’s oppression, of his heavy taxation, and of the terrible game laws, drawn up to preserve those “tall deer” which he loved as greatly as though he were their father. This last part is 38 lines long, divided into 19 couplets linked by rime or assonance, the nineteenth being either marred in transcription or a monastic addition in rime. The spelling often hides the dialectical completeness of the assonance. After this sung ballad follows a passage of rhythmical prose, in which the compiler states that he has written these things about the king, both good and evil, that men may imitate the goodness and wholly flee from the evil. It would seem that the chronicler had to be original in telling of the Conqueror’s virtues; but, for the vices, he had plenty of popular material at hand. The unhappy people were in no mood to exalt his virtues, and, for the description of these, the chronicler was forced to rely on his own literary resources.

Note 46. But the reader must be cautioned against assuming that every rimed verse was also sung verse. The shorter types of rimed verse in such poems as Judith and The Battle of Maldon were almost certainly not. The only sure criteria are (I) conformity to the metrical schemes given in the Appendix, (2)a tendency to neglect the rhetoric stress and turn the two-beat rhythm into a four-beat, as shown by the riming use of syllables not carrying the full stress. Examples are: Judith, 1. 23I, (ècgúm gecòsté) slògon èornósté; Maldon, 1. 309, B&ygrave;rhtwold m[char]p[char]lódé bòrd h[char]f[char]nódé. [ back ]Note 47. Cott. Tib. B. IV., and Bodl. Laud. 636. [ back ]Note 48. At the end we have the following: They buried him “ful wur[char]lice | swa he wyr[char]oe waes (no rime) aet [char]am Westende | [char]am styple fulgehende (rimes) on [char]am su[char]portice | seo saul is mid Criste” (no rime). Now on [char]am su[char]portice rimes with ful wur[char]lice, although it does not rime in its present place. It also would then follow on in sense. Seo saul is mid Criste needs a rime in -iste and what better one can be than o[char] [char]a aeriste? This rime was possibly removed because, on a fullstop being lost in the last line, the first half verse would apply to the soul, and smack of heresy to the monk. We may then read: “ful wur[char]lice | on [char]am su[char]portice. aet [char]am Westende | pam styple fulgehende o[char] a aeriste | seo saul is mid Criste” which changes the architectural sence. [ back ]

§ 12. Judith.

The verses in the Chronicle have little literary merit, with the exception of the poem on the battle of Brunanburh, and this seems to have been strongly influenced by the epic of Judith. Of this latter, unfortunately, only a beautiful fragment, consisting of some 350 lines survives.  49  Judith was, perhaps, composed as a eulogy of Aethelflaed, queen of Mercia, who fought nobly against the Danes in the first quarter of the tenth century. It has been attributed to Caedmon; but its use of rime and the character of its language has led some critics to place the poem comparatively late. The use of rime, however, is no conclusive argument. It recounts, in vigorous language, the deeds of the Apocryphal heroine, and dwells especially on the way in which her deed stired up the timorous Jews to more courageous patriotism. It is noteworthy that Aelfric himself had written a homily on Judith, to teach the English the virtues of resistance to the Danes. This homily must have been written earlier, and, perhaps, it influenced the writer of Judith to choose her as a national type in the fight for God and fatherland. The poem, as we have it, begins at the end of the ninth canto; cantos X, XI and XII are preserved in full, but the earlier part of the poem is entirely wanting. This loss, however, is the less to be regretted since the remaining cantos, containing the crisis of the story, are, probably, the finest of all, and deal with a complete episode, to which the fragment of canto IX, telling of the faith of the heroine and the invitation to the feast of Holofernes, serves as introduction. Canto X describes, with all the delight of Old English poets in such pictures, the banquet in the Assyrian camp, the deep bowls of wine borne along the benches, and the shouts and laughter of the revellers. Darkness descends, and the warriors bring the maiden to their master’s tent. Overcome with wine, he falls into a deep slumber, and the heroine, with a supplication to heaven for help draws the sword from its sheath. She hales the heathen towards her by his hair, and smites twice with her weapon, till his head rolls upon the floor. In canto XI, we read how Judith and her maid steal from the camp with the head of Holofernes, and return to Bethulia, where their kinsmen are waiting for them on the wall. As soon as the two approach, men

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and women hasten together to meet them, and Judith bids her servant uncover the trophy and exhibit it to the warriors. Then, with passionate words, she exhorts them to attack the camp, to bear forth shields and bucklers and bright helmets among the foe. So, at dawn of day, they set out, the wolf and raven rejoicing in the tumult, and the dewy-feathered eagle singing his war-song above them, their sudden onset on the camp distrubing the enemy, drowsy with mead. The next canto relates how the terrified Assyrians hasten to tell their leader of the assault, and how, when they find only his dead body, they, “sorrowfully minded, cast down their weapons, and turn, sad at heart, to flight.” The poem ends with the entire overthrow of the Assyrians, the return of the conquerors with their booty to Bethulia, and Judith’s praise of the Almighty for the triumph of her stratagem.  From this sketch of the poem it will be seen that it is closely allied in theme to those of Cynewulf and his school, and this led to the assumption of Ten Brink and others that it was composed in the early part of the ninth century. A close investigation of its diction by Gregory Foster led him to place it a century later; and, if, as he thinks, it was composed to commemorate the valiant deeds of Aethelflaed, the Lady of Mercia, who wrested the five boroughs from the Danes, it was probably written about 918. But nothing can be said with certainty on the subject.

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  As poetry, this fragment stands in the front rank of Old English literature, with Beowulf and Elene and Andreas. In wealth of synonym it is equal to the best poems of Cynewulf, while the construction of the sentences is simpler, and the narrative, in consequence, less obscure. An impression of intensity is produced by the heaping of synonyms in moments of stress, as in the prayer of Judith, and in the fierce lines which describe the onset against the Assyrians; while a sense of dramatic fitness is shown in the transitions, the divisions of the cantos and the preparation for each great adventure. The tragedy is alive, and the actors play their parts before our eyes.

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Note 49. Cott. Vitell. XV. [ back ]

§ 13. The Battle of Maldon or Byrhtnoth’s Death.

The patriotic feeling which probably gave rise to Judith was certainly responsible for the second great poem of our period, the Battle of Maldon, sometimes called Byrhtnoth’s Death. The manuscript of this poem  50  was destroyed by the Cottonian fire; but it had, fortunately, been printed by Herne in 1726, and it is from his text that our knowledge of the poem is derived. It celebrates the death of the great ealdorman Byrthnoth, who was connected by close ties of kinship with Aethelmaer, the friend of Aelfric; it was, indeed partly by means of legacies left by him that Aethelmaer was enabled to support so generously the monastic revival, and it is, therefore fitting that he should be commemorated by one of the finest poems in Old English. In the poem before us he stands out as the ideal leader of men, admirable alike in his devotion to his king, his simple piety and his sense of responsibility towards his followers. He died as became a member of the race that thirsts for danger,  51  almost the last of the warriors of that time who maintained the noble tradition of the days of Alfred. In less than twenty years after this date, the chronicler tells a pitiful story of division between those who should have united to lead the people to battle, and of forced payment of the shameful tribute which Byrhtnoth refused.

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  It was in the year 991 that the Northman Anlaf sailed with ninety-three ships to the coast of England, and after harrying Stone, Sandwich and Ipswich, came to Maeldune (now Maldon) on the banks of the river Panta or Blackwater. The stream divides here into two branches, and, leaving their ships at anchor in one of them, the Danes drew up their forces on the intervening piece of land. The poem, the beginning and end of which are lost, opens with the directions of Byrhtnoth to his men, and tells how, after marshalling his troops, he exhorted them to stand firm, taking his place among the band of his immediate followers. At that moment there appeared on the other side of the stream the viking herald, who said that he was sent by the seamen to announce that, if Brythnoth would buy off the assault with tribute, they would make peace with him and return to their own land. But Byrhtnoth scornfully rejected the offer, saying that he would give tribute, indeed, but it should be the tribute of the sharp spear and the ancient sword, and their only booty would be battle. With this message he bade his men advance to the edge of the stream; but, owing to the inflowing flood after the ebb, neither army could reach the other, and they waited in battle array till the tide’s going out. Then Byrhtnoth, overweeningly daring, trusting too much in his own strength, allowed the enemy to cross by the bridge (probably one of stepping-stones which would be covered at high tide), and

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the fight became fierce. “The time had come for the fated men to fall; then was a tumult raised, the raven, eager for carrion, hovered in the air, and on earth was a great cry.” On every side fell the heroes; a kinsman of Byrhtnoth was wounded, and, at last, the brave earl himself was slain by a poisoned spear. With his last words he exhorted his men to resistance, and died commending his soul to God. True to the noble traditions of the heroic age, Aelfnoth and Wulfmaer shared his faith and fell, hewn down by the heathen beside their lord. Then cowards began to flee and seek safety in the woods, forgetting the brave words they had spoken when feasting in the mead-hall. But Aelfwine, the son of Aelfric, shouted to those fleeing, reminding them of their vows, and declaring that none among his race should twit him with flight, now that his prince lay fallen in battle, he who was both his kinsman and his lord. His brave words were taken up by Offa and Dunnere; and the warriors advanced to a fresh attack. The appearance amongst the defending ranks of Aeschere, son of Ecglaf, a Northumbrian hostage is of great interest, as it seems, for a moment, to give us a vivid glance of the political troubles of the land. The poem ends by telling how Godric exhorted his comrades and fought fiercely against the heathen till he too fell.  This brief outline may, perhaps, give some idea of the great interest of the poem, whose every word is filled with deep hatred against the marauding foe, and with dignified sorrow for the loss of beloved friends. The verse is as noble as the deed and instinct with dramatic life. In it we see the heroic feeling of the earlier national poetry, full of the Teutonic theme of loyal friendship and warlike courage. And not until many hundreds of years have elapsed do we find its equal in tragic strength. It is from this stirring narrative, from Wulfstan’s address of the English and from the bitter records in the Chronicle, that we realise the degradation of the country during the unhappy reign of Aethelred.

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Note 50. Oth. A. XII. [ back ]Note 51. Tacitus, Hist. V, 19. [ back ]

§ 14. Menologium.

The remaining poems of our period in the old alliterative metre are of a didactic character. Among them may be mentioned the Mengologium or poetical calendar, which is prefixed to a version of the Chronicle. 52  It is an interesting metrical survey of the progress of the year, with special mention of the saints’ days observed by the church, preserving some of the Old English names of the months, such as Weodmona[char] (August), Winterfylle[char] (October) and Blotmona[char] (November), and retaining traces of heathen times, though the whole is Christian in basis. Its value, as poetry, depends on the tender feeling for nature shown in such passages as those which describe the coming of May, tranquil and gentle, with blossoming woods and flowers, or winter, which cuts off the harvest with the sword of rime and snow, when all is fettered with frost by the hest of the Creator, so that men may no longer haunt the green meadows or the flowery fields.

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Note 52. Cott. Tib. B. I. [ back ]

§ 15. Be Domes Daege.

Of more literary value is the poem entitled Be Domes Daege,  53  a free version of the Latin poem De Die Judicii, by some scholars ascribed to Bede and by others to Alcuin. The 157 lines of the Latin original are expanded to 304 by the translator, whose imaginative gift is especially visible in the way he enlarges on a hint from his source. The opening passage is extremely beautiful. It tells how, as the author sat lonely within a bower in a wood where the streams murmured among pleasant plants, a wind suddenly arose that stirred the trees and darkened the sky, so that his mind was troubled, and he began to sing of the coming of death. He describes how he wept and lay upon the earth, beating his breast for sorrow, and he calls upon all his fellow sinners to confess their sins with tears and to throw themselves of the mercy of Christ. Then comes another highly imaginative passage, describing the terrors that will foretell the second advent. “All the earth shaketh, and the hills also quiver and fall; the gates of the mountains bend and melt, and the terrible tumult of the stormy sea fearfully frights the minds of men.” Then the Lord shall come with hosts

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of angels, the sins of all shall be revealed and fire shall consume the unrepentant. The poem ends with a passage, partly borrowed from the Latin, on the joys of the redeemed. They shall be numbered in heaven among the angels, and there, amidst clusters of red roses, shall shine for ever. A throng of virgin souls shall wander there, garlanded with flowers, led by that most blessed of maidens who bore the Lord on earth.  The translation is one of the finest in Old English. It is far more powerful than its Latin original, and many of the most beautiful passages are new matter put in by the Old English translator; for example, the lengthening of the opening, telling of the woodlands scene, the section of the terrors of judgement and hell, and the whole passage describing Mary leading the flower-decked maiden throng in Heaven.

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  In the same manuscript occurs another poem to which its editor, Lumby, gave the title of L[char]r, and which he ascribed to the author of the previous poem. It has, however, none of the imaginative power of Be Domes Daege, and consists simply of eighty lines of exhortatory verse addressed by one friend to another, bidding him work, fear God, pray, give alms and go to church in cold weather. And, since the length of life is unknown, and the enemies of man are ever at hand to assail him, they must be routed by earnest prayer and meditation, and the abandonment of all bad habits. The low poetical worth of this piece would seem to show that it was not by the translator of Be Domed Daege.

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  Next follow in the manuscript some curious verses, of which each line is half in Latin and half in English, and which were formerly also attributed to the author of Be Domes Daege. The poems, however, differ so much in merit that this theory must certainly be rejected. The further theory that the invocation of saints in these verses shows that it was not by the author of Be Domes Daege is, however, scarcely sound, for it disregards contemporary theology and overlooks the English verses in praise of the Virgin added by the translator of that poem. Hence our truest warrant for attributing these verses to a different author lies rather in the beauty and dignity of Be Domes Daege. The hymn in question is an ingenious piece of trickery, like many a Proven¸al poem of later date. It opens with a prayer for God’s mercy on the reader, and then goes on to speak of the incarnation, ending with an invocation to Mary and the saints. These verses, however, are of inestimable value metrically, since they show, by their Latin equivalents, the two-beat characters of the rhetorical verse, just as similar Old German poems show, by their far greater length in the Latin portions, the four-beat characters of Germanic sung verse.

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  More interesting are the eleventh century metrical versions of the Psalms, in a manuscript in the Bibliotheque Nationale. This MS. contains only Psalms 1 to c1, but Bouterwek discovered further fragments in a Benedictine office, which partly fill up the gaps, and point to the existence of a complete metrical version of the Psalter in Old English. Taken altogether, however, this Benedictine office is merely a heap of fragments.The translation is, as a rule, good, when play is given to love of nature or to feeling, common in Old English poetry. An isolated version exists of Pslam 1 in Kentish dialect,  54  which was formerly supposed to belong to the eighth century, but which is shown, by its language, to be two hundred years later. It was not, apparently, one of a series, but was complete in itself, being rounded off at the close by a short hymn-like passage on David’s sin and his atonement.

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  A gloomy poem on The Grave, “For thee was a house built Ere thou wast born,” etc., written in the margin of a volume of homilies in the Bodleian  55  and known to all readers of Longfellow and many beside, need not detain us long. It is, probably, of later date than any of the poems already referred to and shows signs of the coming metrical change.

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  Last, there must be mentioned a poem on the city of Durham, which, though not composed within our period, is the latest in classical rhetorical metre that is known to exist, and is, therefore, most suitably described in this place. One version  56  was printed by Hickes in his Thesaurus (1703–05), and another copy occurs at the close of a manuscript of the Historia Ecclesia Dunelmensis of Simeon of Durham in the University Library, Cambridge. The poem, which contains twenty long lines, falls in two parts, the first eight describing the city on the hill, surrounded with steep rocks, girdled by the strong flowing river, and full of many kinds of fish, and environed by forests in whose deep dells dwell countless wild beasts; while the last twelve tell of the wonderful relics preserved there, memorials of Cuthbert and Oswald, Aidan and Eadberg, Eadfrith and bishop Aethelwold, as well as of the famous writers Bede and Boisil, which, amidst the veneration of the faithful, awaited in the minster the doomsday of the Lord. It is this catalogue of saints which enables us to fix the date of the poem, for the translation of their relics to the new cathedral took place in 1104, and the poem follows closely the order of enumeration found in Simeon of Durham&apo5s;s description of that ceremony.  57  Although it is written in a trained archaistic attempt at West Saxon spelling, yet we catch many clear glimpses of south-eastern twelfth century phonology in its faulty attempts at correctness.

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  After 1100, English poetry ceases to exist for nigh a hundred years, although fragments remain to bear   104

witness to that popular verse which was to keep in the west midlands and north some continuity with the old poetry—for the sung rhythm never died out amongst the common folk, and rose ever and anon to such songs as that of The Pearl, to heroic lays of Arthur, Alexander and Troy and, in our own days, has been revived in the rhythm of the mystic Christabel.  English prose was wrecked for many a hundred year. Centuries elapsed before Aelfric had his equal again.

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Note 53. Found in a unique manuscript in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. [ back ]Note 54. Cott. Vesp. D. V. I. [ back ]Note 55. NE. F. 4, 12. [ back ]Note 56. Cott. Vitt. D. 20. [ back ]Note 57. Capitula de Miraculis et Translationibus S. Cuthberti, Cap. VII. [ back ]

VIII. The Norman Conquest.

§ 1. Dunstan.

THE Norman conquest of England, from a literary point of view, did not begin on the autumn day that saw Harold’s levies defeated by Norman archers on the slopes of Senlac. It began with the years which, from his early youth onwards, Edward the Confessor, the grandson of a Norman duke, had spent in exile in Normandy; and with his intimacy with “foreigners” and its inevitable consequences. The invasion of Norman favourites, which preceded and accompanied his accession to the throne, and their appointments, for a time, to the chief places in church and state, led to the tightening of the bonds that bound England to the Roman church, and paved the way for the period of Latin influence that followed the coming of William, Lanfranc and Anselm.

  1

  The development of the old vernacular literature was arrested for nearly a hundred and fifty years after Hastings; and, as the preservation of letters depended on ecclesiastics, professed scholars and monastic chroniclers of foreign extraction, the literature of England for practically a couple of centuries is to be found mainly in Latin. Happily for England, her connection with the continent became intimate at a time when Paris, “the mother of wisdom,” was about to rise to intellectual dominance over Europe.

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  Of the national vernacular literature of France, at the time of the Conquest, little was transplanted to English soil; but, in the two centuries that followed, the cultivation of romance, aided by “matter” that had passed through Celtic hands, flourished exceedingly among the Anglo-Norman peoples and became a notable part of English literature.

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  The development of Old English literature, as we have said, was arrested. It was by no means, as some have urged, lifeless before this break in its history; and speculation would be futile as to what might have been its future, had there been no Norman conquest. Where so much has been lost, there is no safety in sweeping generalisations, based upon what is left. As a whole, the evidence which we possess shows Old English literature to have been richer than that of any other European nation during the period of its most active life; and, through there was, apparently, throughout Christian Europe, a lowering of letters, in which England shared, during “the gloom and iron and lead” of the tenth century, yet the lamps of learning and of literature, though low, were not extinguished in this island. It was the age of Dunstan, a lover of ballads and music and illuminated missals and precious jewels and letters, a learned saint, a dreamer of dreams, a worker in metal, the reformer of Glastonbury, a statesman and teacher who “filled all England with light.” It was, as we have seen, the age of Aelfric, in whose hands Old English prose had been fashioned from the condition in which we find it in the early days of the Chronicle, and in the days of Alfred, into an instrument capable of expressing different kinds of thought in ways of lightness and strength. And it was the age, certainly, of The Battle of Maldon and of Brunanburh, and, possibly, of Judith also. Old English poetry had proved itself capable of expressing with notable aptitude, and with grave seriousness, the nobler views of life.

  4

  A period of warfare with the Danes follows, during which monasteries like that of Cerne, in Dorset, are sacked, and literature wanes; but there is evidence that the national spirit, fostered by the beneficent rule of Canute, was strong in England in the days preceding the coming of the Conqueror; and it is but reasonable to

  5

assume that this spirit would not have withered away and become a thing of naught, had Harold won, instead of lost, the battle of Hastings. The main stream of its literary expression was dammed at that time, and portions of it were turned into other, and, so far as we can now see, into better, because more varied, channels; but, when the barriers were gradually broken down, and the stream regained freedom of action, it was not the source that had been vitally altered—this had only been changed in ways that did not greatly modify its main character—but, between altered banks, and in freshly wrought-out channels, the old waters ran, invigorated by the addition of fresh springs.  Into what the folk-songs, of which we have faint glimmerings, were about to develop, had there not been an interregnum, we know not; but the literary spirit of the people, though they were crushed under their Norman masters, never died out; it had little or no assistance at first from the alien lettered classes; and, when it revived, it was “with a difference.”

§ 2. The Coming Change.

There had not been wanting signs of some coming change. Already, in pre-Conquest days, there had been a tendency to seek some “new thing.” A growing sense of the existence of wonderful things in the east, of which it was desirable to have some knowledge, had led an unknown Englishman to translate the story of A pollonius of Tyre into English. The marvellous deeds of the Lives of the Saints had already proved that a taste for listening to stories, if not, as yet, the capacity to tell them with conscious literary art, grace and skill was in existence. And, in addition to this, we learn from the list of books acquired by Leofric for Exeter cathedral, sixteen years only before the battle of Hastings, that the love for books and learning which had inspired Benedict Biscop and Dunstan had by no means died out; of some sixty volumes, many were in English and one is the famous “mycel Englisc boc” “of many kinds of things wrought in verse,” from which we know much of the little we do know concerning Old English literature.

  7

  The facility with which Englishmen adopted what Normans had to give was, in some measure, due to the blood-relationship that already existed between the two races. Scandinavian seafarers, mated with women of Gaul, had bred a race possessing certain features akin to those of the Teutonic inhabitants of England. It was a race that, becoming “French,” adapted itself rapidly to its new surroundings, soon forgetting its northern home and tongue; and, when it was master of England, further barriers between race and race were soon broken down. The Norman conquest of England differed altogether from the English conquest of Britain. The earlier conquest was a process of colonisation and gave the land an almost entirely new population, with entirely new thoughts and ways of looking at things, save in the borderlands of the “Celtic fringe”; the later brought a new governing, and then a new trading, class, and added a fresh strain to the national blood without supplanting the mass of the people. Intermarriage, that would begin, naturally enough, among Norman servingmen and English women, spread from rank to rank, receiving its ultimate sanction when Anselm crowned Matilda as Henry’s queen. Sooner or later the Norman, whether of higher or of lower degree, adopted England as his country, spoke and acted as an Englishman and, before the great Charter, that is to say, a hundred and fifty years after the battle of Hastings, when the French homes of Normandy and Anjou had been lost, the mixture of the invading race and the conquered people was approaching completion. The more stolid native had been touched with “finer fancies” and “lighter thought”; the natural melancholy of the Old English spirit had been wedded to the gaiety of the Norman; and England… in due season was recognised to be

       

a wel god land, ich wene ech londe best,Iset in the on ende of the worlde as al in the west:The see geth him al aboute, he stond as in an yleOf fon 1  hii dorre the lasse doute—bote hit be thor3 gyleOf fole of the sulve 2  lond, as me hath iseye 3wile, 3 , 4 

in language that irresistibly recalls the “fortress built by Nature for herself,” the “happy breed of men,” the “little world,” the “precious stone set in the silver sea,” the “blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,” of Shakespeare. So it came to pass that, though, as the immediate result of the Conquest, Norman-French became the exclusive language of the rich and courtly nobles and ecclesiastics, knights and priests, and Latin the exclusive language of learning—the conduits thus formed tending inevitably to trouble the isolated waters—yet the language        in the country places.

  8

Where the old plain men have rosy faces,And the young fair maidensQuiet eyes,

and among the serfs and the outlaws in the greenwood, and “lowe men” generally, was the unforbidden, even if untaught, English of the conquered race. And, contrary to the expectation and, perhaps, the desire of the governing class, it was this language which, in the end, prevailed.  The gain to English literature that accrued from the Norman conquest in three directions is so great as to be obvious to the most superficial observer. The language was enriched by the naturalisation of a Romanic vocabulary; methods of expression and ideas to be expressed were greatly multiplied by the incursion of Norman methods and ideas; and the cause of scholarship and learning was strengthened by the coming of scholars whose reputation was, or was to be, European, and by the links that were to bind Paris and Oxford.

  9

Note 1. Of foes they need the less fear—unless it be through guile. [ back ]Note 2. same [ back ]Note 3. formerly. [ back ]Note 4. Robert of Gloucester. [ back ]

§ 3. The Wisdom of the East.

In a less obvious way, it gained by the consequent intercourse with the continent that brought our wandering scholars into connection with the wisdom of the east. It is not to be forgotten, for instance, that, for three or four hundred years, that is to say, from about the ninth to about the twelfth century, Mohammadism, under the rule of enlightened caliphs in the east and in the west, fostered learning and promoted the study of the liberal arts at a time when many of the Christian kingdoms of Europe were in intellectual darkness. Harun ar-Rashid was a contemporary of Alcuin, and he and his successors made Baghdad and the cities of Spain centres of knowledge and storehouses of books. The Aristotelian philosophy, which had so commanding an influence over the whole of the religious thought of the west during the Middle Ages, was known prior to the middle of the thirteenth century, chiefly through Latin translations based upon Arabic versions of Aristotle; and the attachment of the Arabs to the study of mathematics and astronomy is too well known to call for comment. Our own connection with Mohammadan learning during the period of its European predominance is exemplified in the persons of Michael Scot; of Robert the Englishman or Robert de Retines who first translated the Coran into Latin; of Daniel of Morley, East Anglian astronomer, scholar of Toledo and importer of books; and of Adelard or Aethelard of Bath, who, in many wanderings through eastern and western lands, acquired learning from Greek and Arab, who translated Euclid and who showed his love of the quest for knowledge in other than purely mathematical ways in his philosophical treatise De Eodem et Diverso, an allegory in which Philocosmia, or the Lust of the World, disputes with Philosophia for the body and soul of the narrator.

§ 4. Lanfranc.

The Christian learning of the west received fresh impetus in the middle of the eleventh century at the hands of Lanfranc, who made the monastic school at Bec a centre famous for its teaching, and who, when he came to England, to work for church and state, did not forget his earlier care for books and learning. It was under Lanfranc’s direction that Osbern, the Canterbury monk, wrote his lives of earlier English ecclesiastics, of St. Dunstan and St. Alphege and St. Odo; and he gave generously to the building of St. Albans, a monastery which, under the abbacy of Lanfranc’s well-beloved kinsman Paul, encouraged the spirit of letters in its specially endowed scriptorium, and so led the way to the conversion of annalist into historian illustrated in the person of Matthew Paris.

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  A consideration of the writings of Lanfranc himself falls outside our province; they consist of letters, commentaries and treatises on controversial theology. Prior to his appointment as archbishop of Canterbury, Lanfranc had been mainly responsible for the refutation of the “spiritual” views concerning the Eucharist held by Berengarius, who, following the footsteps of John Scotus (Erigena) opposed the doctrine of Real Presence. Lanfranc’s deputation helped largely to strengthen the universal acceptance of the doctrine of

transubstantiation throughout the Roman church; and, as the chief officer of the English church, in the years of its renovation under William, his influence could but tend towards placing English religious life and thought and, therefore, English religious literature, more in harmony with the religious system of Europe.

§ 5. Anselm.

Lanfranc’s successor in the see of Canterbury was his fellow-countryman and pupil, Anselm; perhaps less of a statesman, but a greater genius, a kindlier-natured and larger-hearted man and a more profound thinker. As one of the greatest of English churchmen, who fought for the purity and liberty and rights of the English church, we may claim Anselm as English, and we may rejoice at the place given him in the Paradiso in the company of Bonaventura and John Chrysostom and Peter “the devourer” of books, but the consideration of his writings, also, falls rather to the historian of religious philosophy. Inasmuch, however, as the result of Anselm’s fight against kingly tyranny led to the charter of Henry I and so prepared the way for the Great Charter that followed a century later he must be mentioned among those who took part in the making of England.

  13

  The reflection in English literature of the gradual construction of this new England will be seen more clearly when we have passed through the interval of quiescence that prevailed in vernacular letters after the Conquest. The literature of church and state and scholarship was for those who knew Latin; and the literature that followed the invaders was for those who taught French; the struggle for supremacy between native and alien tongues was fought out; and, when the first writers of Transition English appear, it is seen that the beaten Romance has modified the conquering Teutonic. The early days appear to be days of halting steps and curious experiment; and, naturally, the imitation of foreign models seems greater at first than later, when the naturalisation, or, rather, the blending, is nearer completion. Even the manuscripts of these early days, in their comparatively simple character, show that the vernacular is in the condition of a “poor relation”. Writers in English were at school under the new masters of the land, whose cycles of romance, including much that was borrowed from the adopted country, and, therefore, much that was easily assimilated, afforded, both in respect of form and of matter, excellent material for translation for many a year until, in fact, the clipped wings had had time to grow again.

§ 6. Norman Gifts.

As before hinted, we do not know the extent of what we lost, and we cannot, with any advantage, proceed far on the road of aesthetic comparision between old and new. We must be content, therefore, to recognise to the full the gifts of the Norman race, and these were not confined to the making of literary English. For, as an outward and visible sign, still remaining in many places to testify, with the strengthening of our literature, to the change in art that accompanied the change in blood, and that gave expression to the change in thought, there stand the buildings erected throughout the land, as William of Malmesbury said, “after a style unknown before.”

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  After the axe came the chisel; and this change of tool which helps us to follow the steps that mark the development of Anglo-Norman architecture, may symbolise the development of language and letters in England under Anglo-Norman kings, a development that had begun years before the Conqueror had landed. When inflections had been well-nigh lopped off, and the language had been made more copious by additions to its ornamental vocabulary, the new “smiths of song”—whether graceless minstrel or ascetic priest—were able to give more adequate expression to the work of their hands and to branch out into less imitative ways. They were beating out the material in preparation for the coming of Chaucer.

IX. Latin Chroniclers from the Eleventh to the Thirteenth Centuries.

§ 1. England and Normandy.

Of all the literary monuments of the remarkable revival of learning which followed the coming of the Normans and which reached its zenith under Henry II, the greatest alike, in bulk and in permanent interest and value, is the voluminous mass of Latin chronicles compiled during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. So ample is the wealth of this chronicle literature, and so full and trustworthy is its presentment of contemporary affairs, that few periods in our history stand out in such clear and minute relief as that of the Norman and Angevin kings. Priceless as these documents are to the modern historian, they are far from being as a whole, the colourless records which concern the student of political and constitutional movements alone. Many of them may have but little charm or distinction of style, and may appear to be nothing better than laboriously faithful registers of current events. They all, however, after their quality and kind, bear the marks of a common inspiration, and the meanest chronicler of the time felt that, in compiling the annals of his own country, he was working in the tradition of the great historians of antiquity. Some few of the chronicles are real literature, and show that their writers were well aware that history has its muse.

  1

  While a scholarly delight and an honest pride in their art were common to all the English chroniclers of the Norman and Angevin period, not a few of them found an additional incentive in royal and aristocratic patronage. Much of the activity of the twelfth century historians was palpably due to the favour shown to men of letters by the two Henrys, and the personal encouragement of princely nobles like earl Robert of Gloucester, and courtly ecclesiastics like Alexander, bishop of Lincoln. Some of the monastic writers enjoyed no such direct patronage; but they were none the less responsive to the demands of the time. They not only felt the impulse of the new learning—they were conscious of living in a great age, and of witnessing the gradual establishment in England of a new and powerful kingdom. Nothing is more significant than the way in which the Anglo-Norman chroniclers, whether native Englishmen or Normans, domiciled in England, reflect the united patriotic sentiment which it was the design of Norman statesmanship to foster. Though composed in a foreign tongue, these chronicles are histories of England, and are written from a national English standpoint. It was under Henry I, whose marriage with Matilda seemed to symbolise the permanent union of the two peoples, that a new sense of national self-consciousness began to grow out of the Norman settlement. A shrewd observer of the next generation, Walter Map, tells us that it was Henry who effectually “united both peoples in a steadfast concord.” 1 It was Henry’s reign also that witnessed the transfer of the central seat of Norman power from Normandy to England, William of Malmesbury, himself half-Norman, half-English, in his account of the battle of Tinchebray, reminds his readers that it was fought “on the same day on which about forty years before, William had first landed at Hastings”—a fact which the chronicler characteristically takes to prove “the wise dispensation of God that Normandy should be subjected to England on the same day that the Norman power had formerly arrived to conquer that kingdom.” 2  In other words, England now became the predominant partner in the Anglo-Norman kingdom, and the twelfth century chroniclers are fully alive to the meaning of the change. As the dreams of a great Anglo-Norman empire began to take shape in the minds of the new rulers of England, and came to be temporarily realised under Henry II, the English historiographers rose to the height of their opportunities with patriotic ardour. No other country produced, during the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries, anything to be compared with the English chronicles in variety of interest, wealth of information and amplitude of range. So wide is their outlook, and so authoritative is their record of events, that, as Stubbs observes, “it is from the English chroniclers of this period that much of the German history of the time has to be written.” 3  The new England had become conscious of her power, and of her growing importance in the international economy of Europe.

  2

  In literature the most signal expression of that consciousness is the work of our Latin chroniclers. Thus, however unattractive much of this chronicle literature may be to the ordinary reader, there belongs to all of it the human interest of having been written under the pressure of great events and the stimulus of a glowing national feeling.

  3

  Even apart from the patriotic incentives, there were other influences at work during the twelfth century which made for the study and the writing of history. The Norman settlement in England synchronised with a movement which shook all western Christendom to its foundations. The crusades not only profoundly stirred the feelings of Europe—they served indirectly to quicken the imagination and stimulate the curiosity of the western races as nothing had done for centuries. Intercourse with the east, and the mingling together of different tribes in the crusading armies, brought about a “renascence of wonder” as far-reaching in some of its effects as the great renascence itself. The twelfth century is, above all, the age of the birth of modern romance. The institutions of chivalry, the mystic symbolism of the church, the international currency of popular fabliaux, the importation of oriental stories of magic and wizardry—all contributed to the fashioning of the fantastic creations of the medieval romances. And of the romantic cycles none came to have so speedy

  4

and triumphant a vogue as that which was named, originally in France, “the matter of Britain.” This “matter of Britain” had its beginning as a formative influence in European literature, in the work of an Anglo-Norman writer, who, while professing to draw his information from a suspiciously cryptic source and frequently giving obvious rein to his own imagination, assumes none the less the gravity and the deliberate manner of an authentic chronicler. Geoffrey of Monmouth, ambitious of supplying what previous writers had failed to tell about the kings of Britain before the coming of the English, wrote a chronicle which had all the charm and novelty of a romance of adventure. King Arthur, as a romantic hero, is Geoffrey’s creation. Hence, the most readable Latin chronicle of the twelfth century is one that has the least real claim to that title. But the History of the Kings of Britain is no more to be ruled out of a place in the chronicle literature of England than it is to be ousted from its assured pre-eminence as the fountain-head of Arthurian romance. For Geoffrey’s legends not only wrought their spell upon innumerable poets and imaginative writers, but continued for generations to disturb the waters of history, and to mystify a long line of honest and laborious chroniclers.  Geoffrey’s History, whatever opinion may be held as to its author’s methods and motives, well illustrates in its general style and manner the ambitious designs of the greater Anglo-Norman chroniclers. Those of them who aspire to write history, as distinguished from mere contemporary annals, are studious both of literary ornament and of the symmetry and proportion of their narrative. Compiling and borrowing, as Geoffrey professes to do, from previous chroniclers, they all endeavour to impart some new life and colour to their materials. They take the great Bede as their native master in the art of historical writing. But, for their literary models, they look beyond him, and seek, like William of Malmesbury, to “season their crude materials with Roman art.” 4  Even minor chroniclers, like Richard of Devizes, who confine themselves to the events of their own time, are fond of adorning their pages with classical allusions or quotations. Henry of Huntingdon is even more adventurous, and enlivens his narrative with frequent metrical effusions of his own. Most of them endeavour, according to their ability, to be readable, arming themselves, as Roger of Wendover does, against both “the listless hearer and the fastidious reader” by “presenting something which each may relish,” and so providing for the joint “profit and entertainment of all.” 5 

  5

Note 1. De Nugis Curialium, Dist. v, Cap. v. [ back ]Note 2. Gesta Regum Anglorum Bk. v. [ back ]Note 3. Lectures on Medieval and Modern History, p. 125. [ back ]Note 4. Preface to Gesta Regum Anglorum. [ back ]Note 5. Preface to Flowers of History. [ back ]

§ 2. Characteristics of the Chroniclers.

But, far more than their embellishments of style, their fulness and accuracy of detail and their patriotic motives, what gives life and permanent interest to the Anglo-Norman chronicles is the sense which they convey of intimate relationship with great men and great affairs. Even those chroniclers who do not pretend to write history on the larger scale, and only provide us with what Ralph of Diceto, in describing his own work, calls “outlines of histories,” imagines historiarum, for the use of some future philosophic historian—even they succeed in conveying to us something, at least, of the animation of the stirring age in which they lived. They describe events of which they themselves were eye-witnesses; they preserve documents to which they had special privilege of access; they record impressions derived from direct contact with great statesmen, warriors and ecclesiastics; they retail anecdotes gathered from the cloister, the market-place and the court. For even the monastic chroniclers were not the mere recluses of the popular imagination. They were, in their way, men of the world, who, though themselves taking no active part in public affairs, lived in close intercourse with public men. The great abbeys, such as those of Malmesbury and of St. Albans, were open houses, constantly visited by the mighty ones of the land. William of Malmesbury tells us how his own monastery was distinguished for its “delightful hospitality,” where “guests, arriving every hour, consume more than the inmates themselves.” 6  Even the most remote of monastic writers, such as William of Newburgh, in his secluded Yorkshire priory, kept in such close touch with contemporary affairs as fully to realise their dramatic significance. “For in our times,” he writes in the preface to his English History, “such great and memorable events have happened that the negligence of us moderns were justly to be reprehended, should they fail to be handed down to eternal memory in literary monuments.” Other monkish writers, like

  6

Matthew Paris in a later generation, enjoyed the royal confidence, and occasionally wrote under royal command. Moreover, not all the chroniclers were monks. Henry of Huntingdon, Roger of Hoveden, Ralph of Diceto and the author of the chronicle so long wrongly ascribed to Benedict of Peterborough—not to mention writers like Giraldus Cambrensis and Walter Map, who have left behind them records scarcely distinguishable from contemporary chronicles—were all men who lived in intimate association with the court. So much store, indeed, came, in time, to be set upon the records of the chroniclers that they became standard authorities to which kings and statesmen appealed for confirmation of titles and the determination of constitutional claims. The conditions under which they were composed, and the importance which they once had as documents of state, are alone more than sufficient sanction for the provision made by “the Treasury, under the direction of the Master of the Rolls,” for the publication of those editions in which they can best be studied by the modern reader.

Note 6. Gesta Regum Anglorum, Bk. v. Vol. I.—12. [ back ]

§ 3. The Northumbrian School of English Medieval History; Simeon of Durham.

“Of the several schools of English medieval history,” writes Stubbs, 7  “the most ancient, the most fertile, the longest lived and the most widely spread was the Northumbrian.” At its head stands the great name of Bede, the primary authority and the pattern of most of the Latin historians of our period. The first conspicuous representative of the northern school of chroniclers in the twelfth century is Simeon, precentor of the monastery of Durham, and he, like so many historiographers after him, makes Bede the foundation of the early part of his history. His second source of information, covering the period from the death of Bede down to the beginning of the ninth century, was the lost Northumbrian annals known to us through Simeon alone. From the middle of the ninth century down to 1121 he borrows his matter almost entirely from the chronicle of Florence of Worcester and the first continuator of the latter. The rest of Simeon’s narrative, extending to the year 1129, probably represents his own independent work. Little is known of Simeon’s life, and it is impossible to determine whether he was the actual compiler, or merely the editor, of the chronicle which bears his name. His work, however, had a high repute throughout the Middle Ages, and his fame was second only to that of Bede among the writers of the Northumbrian school. Simeon’s chronicle was continued down to the close of the reign of Stephen by two priors of Hexham. The elder of the two, Richard, wrote an account of the Acts of King Stephen, and the Battle of the Standard, which contains much original information. His son, John, brought the narrative down to the year 1154, and is an independent authority of considerable value. Another northcountryman, the canonised Ailred or Ethelred, a Cistercian monk of Rievaulx, claims a place among the many chroniclers who wrote of the battle of the Standard. His account is neither full nor so full nor so trustworthy as that of Richard of Hexham, but is somewhat more ambitious, in that it professes to give after the manner of the classical historians, the speeches of the rival leaders before the encounter. For a brief period about the middle of the twelfth century there was, in Northumbria as elsewhere, a curious break in the activity of the chroniclers. But, in the next generation, two writers who worthily uphold the traditions of the northern school appear in William of Newburgh and Roger of Hoveden. William confines himself to his own times; but Roger attempts a comprehensive history of several centuries, and, gathering his materials from the best available authorities, gives us what Stubbs calls “the full harvest of the labours of the Northumbrian historians.”

  7

Note 7. Preface to Roger of Hoveden’s Chronicle, Rolls Series. [ back ]

§ 4. Florence of Worcester.

The first Latin chronicler of any importance who belongs to southern England is Florence of Worcester, already mentioned as one of Simeon of Durham’s main sources. Florence’s work is notable as being the first attempt in England at a universal history beginning with the creation and embracing within its compass all the nations of the known world. But, as the title of his chronicle—Chronicon ex Chronicis—frankly indicates, Florence is not much more than a laborious compiler from the works of others; and he took as the basis of the

early portions of his narrative the universal chronicle of Marianus Scotus, an Irish monk of the eleventh century. Marianus, in his turn, is, so far as English history is concerned, only a compiler from Bede and the Old English Chronicle. He brings his record of events down to the year 1082, but it is so fragmentary and perfunctory in its treatment of English affairs as to give Florence abundant opportunities for interpolation and addition. Florence’s account of his own times, which closes with the year 1117, possesses much independent value, and was largely drawn upon by subsequent chroniclers. It is less valuable, however, than its continuation by John, another monk of Worcester, from 1117 to 1141. A second continuation, down to 1152, was based mainly upon the work of Henry of Huntingdon. The task of still further extending Florence’s chronicle seems to have become a special concern of the monks of St. Edmundsbury, for it is to two inmates of that house that we owe two other additions to it which continue the record, without a break, down to the very end of the thirteenth century.

§ 5. Eadmer and Ordericus Vitalis.

Neither Simeon of Durham nor Florence of Worcester can be called a historian in any high sense. Both are, at best, but conscientious annalists, making no effort either to present events in their wider relations of cause and effect, or to adorn their narrative with any studied literary graces. The earlier portions of the chronicle which bears Simeon’s name are, indeed, embellished with frequent poetical quotations, but the work, as a whole, is as barren of literary ornament as that of Florence. Literature of a somewhat richer colour, and history of a higher order, are found in the writings of two of their contemporaries, one, like them, a pure Englishman, the other a Norman born on English soil—Eadmer and Ordericus Vitalis. Eadmer, the follower and intimate friend of Anselm, wrote in six books a history of his own times down to the year 1122—Historia Novorum in Aanglia—which is full of fresh and vivid detail. In his preface Eadmer justifies the historian who confines himself to a narrative of contemporary events; the difficulty of obtaining an accurate knowledge of the past had convinced him that none deserved better of posterity than he who wrote a faithful record of the happenings of his own lifetime. His immediate purpose, he tells us, is to give an account of the relations of his master Anselm with William II and Henry I, and especially of the disputes about the investiture. But, as he anticipates, his task will oblige him to illustrate at many points the history of England before, during and after the investiture quarrel. While the main interest of Eadmer’s work is ecclesiastical, and, in the last two books, turns largely upon the affairs of the see of Canterbury, it throws much valuable light upon the general political and social conditions of the time. Written with what William of Malmesbury calls “a chastened elegance of style,” 8  Eadmer’s History is distinguished most of all by its design and sense of proportion. Eadmer is almost modern in his deliberate limitation of himself to a period and a special subject upon which he could speak as first-hand authority. His example in this respect was not without its effect upon more than one historiographer of the next generation. Richard of Devizes and the author of the Acts of Stephen are chroniclers who make up for the brevity of their narratives by the graphic force which belongs only to a contemporary record. In addition to his History Eadmer wrote a Latin life of Anselm, and upon all that concerns the character and the work of that great prelate there is no more trustworthy authority.

  9

  Ordericus Vitalis, the son of Norman parents but born in Shropshire in 1075, was a writer of much more ambitious scope than Eadmer. His voluminous Ecclesiastical History, borrowing its title from Bede’s great work, extends from the beginning of the Christian era down to the year 1141. It is in thirteen books, and represents the labour and observation of some twenty years of the writer’s life. It is a characteristic product of the cloister. The church, and all that concerns it, are, throughout, uppermost in Orderic’s mind, and determine his standpoint and design as a historian. But he had sufficient curiosity and knowledge of the world to gather and place on record a vast amount of information about mundane affairs. Taken over to Normandy to be educated at the early age of ten, he spent his life as a monk of St. Evroul; but he was not without opportunities of travel, and he paid at least one visit to England for the express purpose of collecting material for his History. Although he is often inaccurate in his chronology, and confusing in the arrangement of his matter, Orderic is one of our standard historical authorities for the Norman period. He is especially valuable for the information he gives as to the condition of Normandy itself during the eleventh, and part of the twelfth, century, and his History deals even more with continental than with English affairs. Yet he always prides himself upon his English birth; he even called himself an Englishman, and could, in Freeman’s words, “at once admire the greatness of the Conqueror and sympathise with the wrongs of his

  10

victims.” Orderic’s very defects of arrangement and order as a chronicler were the result of a curiosity and a range of interest which add much to the value of his work as a minute and varied contemporary record. He tells us much that is not found elsewhere about the social conditions of his time, about the monastic profession and even about the occupations, tastes, pastimes and personal appearance of prominent men. His style is, in many places, highly rhetorical. Of it, as a whole, “an English reader,” writes dean Church, “may best form an idea by combining the Biblical pedantry and doggerel of a Fifth-monarchy pamphlet of the seventeenth century with the classical pedantry of the most extravagant burlesque of Dr. Johnson’s English.” 9 

Note 8. Preface to Gesta Regum Anglorum. [ back ]Note 9. St. Anslem, p. 140. [ back ]

§ 6. William of Malmesbury.

Contemporary with Eadmer and Orderic, William of Malmesbury is a much greater historian, and, to the literary student, a far more attractive writer, than either. Milton’s opinion, that “both for style and judgment” William is “by far the best writer of all” the twelfth century chroniclers, 10  still holds good. William, as many incidental confessions in his History show, had high ambitions as an author, and aspired to restore to the historian’s art the dignity and the splendour with which it had been invested by the illustrious Bede. His design is to tell, artistically yet critically, all that is known about his country’s history from the first coming of the English and, especially, as he informs us in his preface, to “fill up the chasm of two hundred and twenty-three years” after Bede which Eadmer had left altogether unnoticed in his Historia Novorum. William’s chronicle is in two parts. The first, divided into five books, is called a History of the Kings of England, and extends from A.D. 449 to 1127. The second part, entitled Historia Novella or Modern History, is in three books, and brings the narrative down to the year 1142. These histories represent but a small portion of William’s entire literary work, for he was one of the most prolific writers of his time; his other productions include a history of the prelates of England, a life of St. Wulfstan, and a history of the church of Glastonbury. William of Malmesbury possessed many of the highest qualifications of a historian; he had learning, industry, judgment and a wide knowledge of the world. He was, for his day, a considerable traveller, and was, both by temperament and training, a discriminating as well as an inquisitive student of life and character. He is thus singularly free from the prejudices and the narrow standards of the cloister. Although he himself claims that his mixed blood 11 is a guarantee of his impartiality, he has not escaped the suspicion, among modern critics, of having been something of a time-server. He had, however, a thoroughly disinterested love of history as a study and as an art; and the task of writing the history of England presented itself to him as a patriotic duty, all the more clearly incumbent upon him because of the “criminal indolence” of those who might have continued the work of Bede. 12 

  11

  Bede, then, is William’s greatest exemplar, and the fount of his inspiration—Bede, with whom “was buried almost all knowledge of history down to our own times,” and whose praises William protests that he has “neither the abilities nor the eloquence” adequately to blazon. For materials of the earlier portions of his History William states 13  that he searched far and wide; and, while he borrowed from nearly every known work of his time, he evidently draws upon other sources which have not been identified. But he by no means borrows indiscriminately. He sifts and selects his material, and cautions his readers against accepting the testimony of his authorities too implicitly. That he was not, however, so very much in advance of his time is shown by the fact that he, in company with more credulous chroniclers gravely records marvels and seemingly supernatural occurrences as authentic historical events. The evidence of a respectable eye-witness is, in most of these cases, sufficient warrant for unquestioning belief. Anecdotes, also, of every kind, seem to have had a peculiar charm for William, and, at the end of his third book, he quaintly excuses his fondness for including them in his History by saying that, “if I am not too partial to myself, a variety of anecdote cannot be displeasing to any one, unless he be morose enough to rival the superciliousness of Cato.” To the modern reader, who looks for literary entertainment as much as for authentic history, William’s ingenuous habits of reminiscence, of quotation, of anecdotal digression and of sententious comment add much to the personal charm and vivacity of his narrative.

  12

  He is at his best, however, when he brings all his powers of rhetoric and his faculty of pictorial writing to bear upon the description of some great event or stirring public movement. His graphic account of the first

  13

crusade, for example, has about it a spaciousness and a wealth of colour which all but rival the glowing periods of Gibbon. This ardent love not only inspired the continental provinces but even all who had heard the name of Christ, whether in the most distant islands or savage countries. The Welshman left his hunting, the Scot his fellowship with vermin, the Dane his drinking-party, the Norwegian his raw fish. Lands were deserted of their husband-men; houses of their inhabitants; even whole cities migrated. There was no regard to relationship; affection to their country was held in little esteem; God alone was placed before their eyes. Whatever was stored in granaries, or hoarded in chambers, to answer the hopes of the avaricious husbandmen or the covetousness of the miser, all, all was deserted; they hungered and thirsted after Jerusalem alone.Even this brief passage serves to show that William was a writer who could make the dry bones of history live, and who had an artist’s instinct for the salient and significant features of the panorama of events which the historian has to depict upon his canvas. The muse of history needs, for her highest service, the aid of the imagination; and William of Malmesbury’s pre-eminence among the twelfth century chroniclers is due to the art which enabled him to give a picturesque setting to his narrative without any sacrifice of accuracy in circumstantial detail. For he still holds his place among historians as a high authority, not quite so impartial, perhaps, as he professes to be in his judgments of individuals, but singularly clear and trustworthy in his presentment of events. William, after all, wrote under the direct patronage of a great noble, and it was only natural that he should have paid some deference to the wishes and interests of earl Robert of Gloucester. Yet, even in the Historia Novella, written at Robert’s request to describe the struggle between king Stephen and the empress Maud, in which Robert himself played a prominent part, the substantial truth of William’s narrative remains unassailed.

Note 10. History of England, Bk. IV, p. 172 (1st ed. 1670). [ back ]Note 11. In the preface to the third book of his HistoryWilliam says that “the blood of the two peoples flows in [his] veins,” and that he is therefore qualified to “steer a middle course” between racial partisans. [ back ]Note 12. Bk. I, ch. 3. [ back ]Note 13. Bk. II, prol. [ back ]

§ 7. Henry of Huntingdon.

Of the early twelfth century chroniclers, Henry of Huntingdon enjoyed, for generations, a popular repute second only to that of William of Malmesbury. Modern criticism, however, has largely destroyed Henry’s claims to rank as a first-rate historical authority, and in neither style, accuracy, nor fulness of detail is he worthy of any serious comparison with William. Henry himself appears to have rated his powers at quite as high a value as William’s; for he prefaces his chronicle with a floridly rhetorical and ambitious disquisition upon the “prerogatives” of history. But he possessed neither the learning nor the patient industry of William, and his studied endeavours after rhetorical ornament only serve to accentuate his pretentiousness by the side of his great monastic compeer. Henry was a secular clerk, who lived under the patronage, first of Robert Bloet, bishop of Lincoln, and afterwards of his successor, Alexander of Blois. It was, as he tells us, by command of Alexander that he wrote his History of the English, and he probably compiled the greater part of it between 1125 and 1130. The work was dedicated to Alexander; and the prefatory letter ends, characteristically, with an invocation in verse both of the Divine blessing and of the approbation of his episcopal patron. The entire History, frequently revised and extended, ends with the year 1154. Its earlier portions are borrowed, with many embellishments, from Bede and the Old English Chronicle. In many places Henry simply translates from the old English annals, and among his translations is a metrical version, though much curtailed, of the famous song on The Battle of Brunanburh. Henry prided himself on his accomplishments in verse, and his History is decorated with many poetical passages. Of his work, as a whole, the best that can be said is that it shows some sense of design, and of proportion in its execution; he treats of the history of England up to his time as dividing itself naturally into the four periods of the Roman, the Saxon, the Danish and the Norman occupations. It is when he comes to deal with the Norman dominion and especially with the events of his own time, that he is most disappointing. At the beginning of the seventh book he states that, after having so far relied upon either “ancient writers or common report,” he is about to “deal with events which have passed under” his “own observation, or have been told to” him “by

  14

eye-witnesses.” Neither in the seventh nor in the eighth book do we find much to justify the expectation thus raised. Henry was a facile writer, but a perfunctory historian. “He was ambitious, but not laborious; literary, but not exact; intelligent, but not penetrating. He formed large projects, but was too indolent to execute them satisfactorily.” 14  Henry’s rhetorical pages are brought to an appropriate close with a glowing peroration, in verse, celebrating the accession of King Henry II. What appears to have been at one time intended to stand as the eighth book of the History is a treatise On the Contempt of the World—a letter, addressed to a friend named Walter, upon the fortunes of “the bishops and the illustrious men of his age.” This work, both the title and the motive of which remind us of more imposing literary achievements by greater men, contains many vivid portraits of Henry of Huntingdon’s famous contemporaries.

Note 14. Thomas Arnold preface to Rolls edition. [ back ]

§ 8. Gesta Stephani.

A chronicler who is as great an authority, for the reign of which he treats, as either William of Malmesbury or Henry of Huntingdon, is the anonymous author of the Acts of Stephen (Gesta Stephani). Not even William himself surpasses this writer in accuracy and vividness of detail. He is a palpable partisan of Stephen, and has been supposed by some to have been the king’s confessor. Nothing, however, better illustrates the general trustworthiness and impartiality of the twelfth century chroniclers than a comparison of the narrative of this historian with those of William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon. The Gesta Stephani covers much the same ground as the Historia Novella of William; yet though the two works were composed from opposite standpoints, they differ little in their presentment of the essential facts of the history of the time.

§ 9. Geoffrey of Monmouth.

William of Malmesbury claimed, as we have seen, the patronage of Robert, earl of Gloucester; Henry of Huntingdon that of Alexander, bishop of Lincoln. The favour of both these magnates, and, if we are to trust the evidence of a MS. preserved at Berne, that of King Stephen himself, was invoked by the chronicler who enjoys the dubious distinction of having been among British writers the greatest disturber of the waters of history. Could he have foreseen the influence which he was destined to exercise over the poets of England, Geoffrey of Monmouth would doubtless have been quite content with the prospect of forfeiting the confidence of critical historians. Indeed, it is difficult to believe, on any supposition, that the History of the Kings of Britain was written as a serious contribution to authentic history. Geoffrey’s manner only too obviously betrays him. Just as William of Malmesbury is anxious to “fill up the chasm” between Bede and Eadmer, so Geoffrey professes to explore and map out a still more obscure period, namely that of “the kings who dwelt in Britain before the incarnation of Christ,” and especially of “Arthur and the many others who succeeded him after the incarnation.” It so happened that a document was placed in his hands which “set forth the doings of them all in due succession and order from Brute, the first king of the Britons, onward to Cadwaladr, the son of Cadwallo, all told in stories of exceeding beauty.” This document was a certain “most ancient book in the British tongue,” which was supplied to him by Walter, archdeacon of Oxford. No other contemporary chronicler seems to have had access to this mysterious book, and no amount of subsequent research has been able to discover it.Geoffrey himself evidently looked upon its contents as his own exclusive secret; for, in the epilogue to his History, he expressly warns William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon, who could write competently enough about the kings of the English, not to meddle with the kings of the Britons, “inasmuch as they have not the book in the British speech which Walter brought over from Britanny.”

  16

  All this affectation of mystery, however, does not prevent Geoffrey from openly commending his work to the favourable notice of the two great men whose confidence and encouragement William and Henry respectively enjoyed. The main body of his History is dedicated to earl Robert of Gloucester, while the seventh book, consisting of the famous prophecies of Merlin, is prefaced by an almost fulsomely laudatory letter addressed to Alexander of Lincoln. Geoffrey was thus determined to lose nothing of the prestige and credit to be derived from aristocratic patronage; and his dedications only confirm the assumption that he

  17

imitates the practices and assumes the pose of an authentic chronicler with the deliberate purpose of mystifying his readers. For Geoffrey’s History is, on the last analysis, a prose romance, and, in its Arthurian portions in particular, a palpable excursion in fiction. One need not believe that the entire work is, in the words of William of Newburgh, a tissue of “impudent and shameless lies.” Even the reference to “the British book” cannot altogether be regarded as a ruse for the deception of the ingenuous reader. Geoffrey doubtless drew upon some documents, possibly Welsh, which have since been lost. He borrowed all he could from Bede and Nennius; he probably borrowed more from floating British traditions. What is even more certain is that he invented a great deal. It is impossible to read the later books of the History without feeling that Geoffrey, when he had embarked upon the history of Merlin and of Arthur, was fully conscious of his opportunities of romantic dilatation. Arthur was a British prince capable of being exalted into a heroic figure who should overshadow both Alexander and Charlemagne. These two potentates were already the titular heroes of profitably worked romantic cycles. Why should Britain not have its romantic “matter,” as well as Rome and France? Read in the light of the general literary history of its time, and of its immediate and immense popularity, Geoffrey’s History can be adequately explained only as the response of a British writer, keenly observant of the literary tendencies of the day, to the growing demand for romance. How well he succeeded in his design appears from William of Newburgh’s complaint that he had “made the little finger of his Arthur stouter than the back of Alexander the Great.”  The History of the Kings of Britain was complete in the form now known to us by 1148 at the latest; but there is evidence that it existed in some form as early as 1139. A letter from Henry of Huntingdon, addressed to one Warinus, otherwise unknown, and prefixed to the Chronicle of Robert de Monte 15 , gives an abstract of a “big book” by “Geoffrey Arthur,” which Henry discovered in 1139 at the abbey of Bec in Normandy. Henry himself had long been anxious to know something about the kings of the Britons; and “to his amazement he found” at Bec “a written record” of their deeds, including the history of Arthur, “whose death the Britons deny, and still continue to look for his return.” Henry’s letter contains no mention of Merlin; but whether then incorporated in the History or not, the Prophecies must have been written before 1139, for Ordericus Vitalis quotes from them in the twelfth book (ch. 47) of his History, which was composed in 1136 or 1137. By the year 1152 Geoffrey’s work seems to have been well known, and to have won him favour in high places, as he was then consecrated bishop of St. Asaph. He died in 1155. The fame of his History had spread even before his death; for Wace, and, probably, Geoffrey Gaimar, had begun to translate it into Anglo-Norman verse before 1155.

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  In England a long line of chroniclers, in both prose and verse, from Layamon and Robert of Gloucester down to Grafton and Holinshed, accepted Geoffrey in all good faith as a revealer of “the marvellous current of forgotten things”; while a host of poets, great and small, have been constantly haunted by his fables. Two hundred years after his death his repute was such that, on the strength of his use of the Brutus legend, Chaucer gave him a high place in his Hous of Fame. With Homer and Statius, Dares and Dictys and Guido de Colonna, “English Gaufride” stands on an iron pedestal,        besy for to bere up Troye. In a later age both Spenser and Drayton sang his praises; while even Wordsworth could not withhold a tribute to“the British record long concealed,” where

       

We read of Spenser’s fairy themes,And those that Milton loved in youthful years;The sage enchanter Merlin’s subtle schemes,The feats of Arthur and his knightly peers

 16 . But Geoffrey has exacted still greater homage from the poets. Lear and Cymbeline and Sabrina, “virgin daughter of Locrine,” are names that link his memory for ever with the two supreme poetical geniuses of England. Here, indeed, is a distinction which the greatest of chroniclers might have coveted; and it is enough to mark the History of the Kings of Britain as the most significant literary product of the twelfth century.

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  Geoffrey, however, succeeded in deluding so many honest chroniclers who followed him that, in modern times, he has been altogether proscribed from the company of sober historians. Even before the twelfth century was out, his credit had come to be gravely questioned. Giraldus Cambrensis, who had himself no mean gift for the artistic manipulation of the legendary and the marvellous, is one of Geoffrey’s severest detractors. According to Gerald, a certain Welshman named Meilyr was reported to have an extraordinary familiarity with unclean spirits, and they never responded to his call in greater numbers than when Geoffrey’s book was placed on his bosom. Gerald, as is well known, had a strong sense of humour, and, probably all he means to imply is that Geoffrey had over-reached himself in the art of romance.

  20

Note 15. Chronicles of Stephen (Rolls Series), IV 65. [ back ]Note 16. Artegal and Elidure. [ back ]

§ 10. William of Newburgh.

It is otherwise with William of Newburgh. He regarded Geoffrey as one who had deliberately and fragantly profaned the sacred functions of the historian, and devotes the entire preface of his chronicle to a vehement denunciation of Geoffrey’s motives and to an exposure of his fabrications.

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  This severe preface has contributed as much as anything to the high repute in which William of Newburgh is held as a critical historian. Freeman’s description of him as “the father of historical criticism” 17  has often been repeated, but scarcely seems deserved when we compare his actual achievement with that of his greater namesake of Malmesbury. For William of Newburgh belongs to that group of modest chroniclers who are content with treating a limited period, and describe, mainly, the events of their own lifetime. His History extends from the Conquest to the year 1198; but the narrative down to the time of Stephen is so compressed as to make the work, in effect, an account of the reigns of Stephen and Henry II. For the latter reign there are few better authorities. His work, as a whole, forms the best single commentary upon the history of the twelfth century left us by any writer of his day. For William’s chronicle is no mere bare record of events, but an ordered and critical presentment of the affairs of his time, with due regard to their cause and effect. His remoteness from the court and the metropolis doubtless enabled William of Newburgh to maintain an attitude of impartiality impossible to chroniclers thrown into close contact with the greater actors in the drama of contemporary events. At any rate, the work of no twelfth-century chronicler is marked by a more transparent honesty of purpose, by greater independence of judgement, or by more acute estimates of men and their motives. William writes in a clear, straightforward style; less studious of artistic effect and literary ornament than his namesake of Malmesbury, he is inspired by a similar, if not a greater, desire for accuracy. Like his predecessor, he venerates the memory and the example of Bede, “whose wisdom and integrity none can doubt”; and, following that historian’s pious motives, he hopes that his own labours will form some “contribution, however scanty, to the treasure-house of the Lord.”

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  William of Newburgh was a contemporary of the brilliant galaxy of scholars who flourished in the full light of the encouragement given to learning and letters at the court of Henry II. But, living in the comparative seclusion of his monastery, he is not quite of them, and may be regarded rather as a continuator of the honourable traditions of the historical school of the north. In particular, he is one of the most trustworthy authorities for a period of some twenty years, after the turn of the twelfth century, of which we have scarcely any contemporary record. 18  For the English history of the years 1153—4, and especially for the foreign policy of the early years of Henry II’s reign, our best contemporary authority is a chronicler who lived and wrote in Normandy, Robert de Monte or, as he calls himself, Robert of Torigni. He compiled a comprehensive record of events from the close of the first Christian century down to 1186, and is indebted for much of his account of purely English affairs to Eadmer and Henry of Huntingdon. The troubles of King Stephen’s reign appear to have had a paralysing effect upon the chroniclers in England; and it is not until the height of Henry II’s power that they begin once more to give us a full and vivid account of contemporary affairs. The historian’s art flourished a new in the warmth of the general enthusiasm for learning which made the England of Henry’s time the paradise of scholars. In palace and abbey, in the full glare and bustle of the court no less than in the bookish atmosphere of the monastic cell, men were infected by a common ardour of intellectual enterprise and literary achievement. In close touch with the court were men like Gilbert Foliot and Richard Fitz-Neale; Ralph of Diceto, who was dean of St. Paul’s during Fitz-Neale’s episcopate, and Ranulf de Glanville, whose name is associated with one of the earliest and most valuable treatises on the laws and customs of England, though the real author of it was, more probably, his nephew, Hubert Walter; Giraldus Cambrensis and Walter Map, Gervase of Tilbury and Peter of Blois. In remoter haunts, though having frequent opportunities of intercourse with men of action and affairs, were Gervase of Canterbury and Nigel Wireker, John of Salisbury and Richard of Devizes, Benedict of Peterborough and William of Newburgh and Roger of Hoveden. Altogether, there was in the country, as Stubbs says, “such supply of writers and readers as would be found nowhere else in Europe, except in the University of Paris itself.”

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Note 17. Contemporary Review, vol. XXXIII (1878), p. 216. [ back ]Note 18. See Stubbs, Preface to Roger of Hoveden, RollsSeries,p.xI. [ back ]

§ 11. Benedict of Peterborough.

Several of these names are of the first importance in the list of our Latin chroniclers. That of Benedict of Peterborough is associated with the most authoritative chronicle of the reign of Henry II, but only (as is now known) on the strength of the fact that one of the extand MSS. of the work was transcribed under his order. Benedict, however, was by no means a mere director of other men’s literary labours, for he is known to have either written or edited accounts of the passion and the miracles of Becket. The author of the chronicle so long ascribed to him still remains undiscovered. Begun in 1172, the work bears in the main all the marks of a contemporary narrative, and includes several important documents. Stubbs holds that the internal evidence is sufficient to prove not only that the chronicle was not by Benedict, but that it is not the work of a monastic writer at all. It has not even in its most disjointed portion the disorderly form, the disproportionate details, the unimportant memoranda, the generally undigested character, of monastic annals. It displays no propension to monastic institutions, or to those principles and persons that were especially favoured by monks. The author did not even trouble himself to compose an original account of Becket’s martyrdom. Whatever positive indications are to be found point to a member of the king’s court rather than to a monk, or even a secular churchman. 19 

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Note 19. Preface to edition in Rolls Series, p. 1vi. [ back ]

§ 12. Richard Fitz-Neale.

Stubb’s conjecture that the chronicle may have been the work of Richard Fitz-Neale, and is a transcript of that writer’s lost Tricolumnis, “merely altered from its inconvenient tripartite shape” has not found much acceptance among scholars. Fitz-Neale, who was treasurer of England from 1168—98, and bishop of London from 1189—98, is best known as the author of the famous Dialogus de Scaccario, or Dialogue of the Exchequer. That work, written in the form of a dialogue, in two books, between the master and the pupil, is one of the chief sources of our knowledge of constitutional principles and practice in England before the Great Charter; it “stands out as an unique book in the history of medieval England, perhaps in the history of medieval Europe.” 20 

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Note 20. Pollock and Maitland’s History of English Law, vol.1, 2nd ed.p. 161. VOL. 1–13. [ back ]

§ 13. Roger of Hoveden.

The chronicle ascribed to Benedict forms, with some slight alterations and additions, one of the most substantial portions of the ambitious historical compilation attempted by Roger of Hoveden. The chroniclers generally had little scruple about thus transcribing, and embodying in their own works, the writings of their predecessors; it was, indeed, held among the monastic annalists to be a perfectly legitimate, not to say a necessary, practice. Thus Matthew Paris, the greatest monastic historian of the thirteenth century, makes the compilations of two of his predecessors at St. Albans the nucleus of those parts of his Chronica Majora which deals with events before his own time. Roger of Hoveden not only borrowed the so-called Benedict chronicle almost in its entirety, but made use of everything that he could find from the hands of the northern chronicles. In the first part of his work, extending from 732 to 1148, he copies from a Durham compilation, based upon the narratives of Simeon and of Henry of Huntingdon, which is known as the Historia post Bedam. His main source from 1148 down to 1169 is the chronicle of Melrose. The third part, extending to the year 1192, is substantially “Benedict of Peterborough,” illustrated by several new documents; the final portion, ending with

the year 1201, is Roger’s own work. Roger was a man of affairs, and had exceptional opportunities for watching the development of public events. He was at one time in attendance upon Henry II in France; he subsequently held public office, as justice itinerant of the forests. It is disappointing, however, to find in Roger’s Chronicle few of the intimate personal revelations which might be expected in the narrative of one who had such opportunities of intercourse with the leading men of his time. Roger makes up to some extent for this reticence by the compass of his narrative; for the later portions of his chronicle include not only a survey of English affairs during the reign of Henry II and Richard I, but a fairly comprehensive history of Europe during the same period.

§ 14. Ralph of Diceto.

“Well illustrated as the reigns of Henry II and Richard are,” says Stubbs, 21  “one side of their character would be imperfectly known, and some of the crises of their policies would be almost inexplicable,” without Ralph of Diceto. Ralph was another chronicler whose public life and position brought him into close contact with the great men of his time, and gave him access to the best sources of information. He was for many years archdeacon of Middlesex, and, from the year 1180 until his death, about 1202, held the deanery of St Paul’s. “Diceto” appears to have been an artificial Latin name adopted by Ralph to signify his association with some place, probably French, which had no proper Latin name of its own. His chief work is entitled Imagines Historiarum, or Outlines of Histories, extending from the year 1148 down to 1202. Robert de Monte’s chronicle forms the basis of his narrative down to 1172; from that year begin his own original memoranda, which are of especial value as contemporary records from 1183 onwards. Ralph is one of the most sober and straightforward of the chroniclers, and is little given to gossip or rhetorical decoration. His work is somewhat deficient in orderly arrangement, and its chronology is not always to be relied upon. Ralph, however, had much of the insight of the historian who seeks to analyse and to account for, as well as to record, public events and movements, and he was a shrewd judge of character and motive. His chronicle is illustrated by many important contemporary documents, to which his position gave him special means of access.

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  Of the several other chroniclers who wrote during the latter part of the twelfth, and the opening years of the thirteenth, century, only a passing mention need be made. Gervase of Canterbury, who died about 1210, is chiefly remembered as an ecclesiastical historian, and as one of the standard authorities on the contemporary history of the see to which he belonged. One of his works, entitled Gesta Regum, which is of some value as illustrating the reign of John, perpetuates the Brutus legend to which Geoffrey of Monmouth had given so startling a currency. A more important authority for king John’s reign is Ralph, abbot of the Cistercian abbey of Coggeshall, whose Chronicon Anglicanum (1066--1223) contains, among other things, a full and well-informed account of Richard I’s crusade.

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Note 21. Preface to vol. II of edition of Ralph de Diceto in Rolls Series. [ back ]

§ 15. Richard of Devizes.

That crusade has been described by several chroniclers, but by none more graphically than by a monkish writer whose History of King Richard I is one of the briefest of the many contemporary narratives penned in the twelfth century. Its author, Richard of Devizes, has, however, stamped upon his modest essay in history the impress of a personality which is altogether absent from many more ambitious productions. His work has a real literary interest, on account both of the author’s fondness for classical quotations and rhetorical ornament and of the vivid and picturesque force of his narrative. In a flowery letter of dedication, addressed to Robert, prior of the church of Winchester, Richard states that he has deliberatly chosen a limited period for himself, leaving a more comprehensive survey of events to those “who produce greater works.” “My narrative,” he says, “is for the living”; and he writes with a dramatic instinct and an eye to pictorial effect not unworthy of a modern journalist. No chronicle gives us a more vivid picture of the general social condition of England in Coeur de Lion’s time, or of the pageant of events in which the king took paramount part. The persecutions of the Jews, in particular, are described with a terrible faithfulness which reflects the author’s own avowed hatred of the race.

§ 16. Jocelin of Brakelond.

Social life in England at the end of the twelfth century, and especially the internal life and economy of the monasteries are portrayed with intimate knowledge in the celebrated chronicle of Jocelin of Brakelond. Jocelin has had the good fortune, denied to the more ambitious chroniclers of great affairs of state, to engage the attention of a brilliant modern writer, and will continue to be known through Carlyle’s Past and Present to thousands of readers who will never have the curiosity to read his actual Latin record. Quite apart, however, from the adventitious importance it has thus gained, Jocelin’s account of the deeds of Abbot Sampson and his community at St. Edmundsbury is of unique historical value for the light it throws upon the organisation of monastic institutions and of their relations to the social and industrial life of the common people.

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  The life and habits of a different section of society have been illustrated, in an almost equally vivid way, by several of the scholars who flourished in and around the court of Henry II. John of Salisbury and Peter of Blois, Gervase of Tilbury and Nigel Wireker, and, above all, Walter Map and Gerald of Wales, have left behind them documents which bear, in some respects, even more of the very “form and pressure” of the time than the chronicles themselves. The Polycraticus of John of Salisbury, the letters of Peter of Blois, the Otia Imperialia of Gervase and the poems of Nigel Wireker, throw a flood of light upon the studies and the pastimes, the intrigues and the scandals, the humours and the passions of those who dwelt in the high places of both state and church.

§ 17. Giraldus Cambrensis.

Of all these writers none has contrived to blend information and entertainment more successfully than Giraldus Cambrensis. A scholar trained at Paris, an insatiably curious student of men and books and every form of odd lore, a fighter and an intriguer to his fingertips, an inveterate gossip, yet a man capable of high ideals and far-reaching schemes of public policy, the intimate friend of kings and statesmen, popes and prelates, yet withal a passionate lover of his own native little Wales—Gerald is one of the most romantic figures in all medieval literature. The most stirring episode in his life was the struggle in which he engaged, 22  “for the honour of Wales”; and is still deservedly beloved among his countrymen as the devoted champion of one of the most creditable of lost causes and impossible loyalties. But his enduring title to fame rests upon the writings which, alike for brilliancy of style and for variety of interest, remain unsurpassed among the Anglo-Norman literature of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

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Note 22. Op. (Rolls Series), I, 129. [ back ]

§ 18. Walter Map.

A greater renown, however, in literary history generally has been enjoyed by Gerald’s friend, and, probably, fellow-country-man, Walter Map. Were it possible to prove to demonstration Map’s authorship of the great Arthurian romances so commonly associated with his name, there could be no question about his claim to rank as the greatest literary genius who appeared in England before Chaucer. But the claim made on behalf of Map to the authorship of these imaginative works rests on very slender evidence. Even the authenticity of his equally celebrated Goliardic poems is open to grave question. The De Nugis Curialium, or book Of Courtiers’ Trifles, is, undoubtedly, his. It was probably composed by instalments, and forms a sort of common-place book in which Map seems to have jotted down from time to time, both shrewd reflections upon men and things, and pleasant anecdotes to divert the vacant mind. Of the strictly historical portions of the work, the most valuable are the accounts, in the first book, of some of the heretical sects which had sprung up in the twelfth century, and the reflections, which take up the whole of the fifth book, upon the character and achievements of the Anglo-Norman kings. The fourth book includes, in company with some lively tales, the celebrated letter, well

known to the Wife of Bath’s fifth husband, from Valerius to Rufinus, upon the folly of marrying a wife. The whole work is a medley of such diverse and curious ingredients—satire, gossip, fairy-lore, folk-tales and snatches of serious history—as to make us easily believe that its author was, as Gerald hints, one of the most versatile and witty talkers in the court circles of that eager and inquisitive age.

§ 19. Matthew Paris.

The thirteenth century is, emphatically, the golden age of the monastic historians. At their head stands Matthew Paris, the greatest of all our medieval chroniclers; but his work only represents the crowning literary achievement of an enthusiasm and an industry that inspired every considerable monastery in the land. The annals, most of them nameless, of Burton, of Winchester, of Waverly, of Dunstable, of Osney, of Worcester—all testify to the assiduity of monkish scribes in compiling, revising, and adding to the stores of historical material accumulated in their respective houses. Invaluable, however, as these chronicles are to the student of political and social history, they possess little interest as literature.

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  But, at the powerful monastery of St. Albans, there arose a school of historians as brilliant as that which had, in the north, closed with Roger of Hoveden. This school produced in Matthew Paris a writer who, both in his conception of the historian’s art and in the force and picturesqueness of his style, surpasses all the chroniclers of the twelfth century. The historians of St. Albans possessed exceptional advantages. The wealth of the abbey, its accommodation and equipment as an ideal home of learning, its position on Watling Street and its proximity to the capital, marked it out as the chief centre of monastic culture in the thirteenth century; and its inmates kept up a constant intercourse with the great men of the day as they passed through it on their way to and from London and the provinces. Nowhere else, perhaps, in the kingdom could a historian of contemporary events pursue his task at that time under more favourable conditions. Moreover, in no other abbey does the writing of history appear to have been so carefully organised as at St. Albans. Abbot Simon, who died in 1183, established in the monastery a regular office of historiographer. The first occupant of this office whose complete work has come down to us was Roger of Wendover; but his chronicle is based upon materials of which an ample wealth already existed in the abbey. The actual nucleus of the early part of Roger’s Flowers of History is supposed to have been the compilation of John de Cella, who was abbot of St. Albans from 1195 to 1214. John’s work extended down to the year 1188, and was revised and continued by Roger down to 1235, the year before his death. Roger claims in his preface to have selected “from the books of catholic writers worthy of credit, just as flowers of various colours are gathered from various fields.” Hence he called his work Flores Historiarum—a title appropriated in the fourteenth century to a long compilation by various hands. Begun at St. Albans and completed at Westminster, it was based upon the Chronicle of Matthew Paris and continued to the year 1326. The work was long ascribed to one Matthew of Westminster, but it is now known that no actual chronicler of that name ever existed. Roger of Wendover’s work is, however, now valued not so much for what he culled from previous writers as for its full and lively narrative of contemporary events, from 1216 to 1235. Although in accuracy and range and in sublety and shrewdness of insight he falls far short of his great successor as historiographer of St. Albans, Roger largely anticipates him in the fearless candour of his personal and moral judgments. Matthew Paris became historiographer of St. Albans upon the death of Roger of Wendover in 1236, and proceeded in his famous Chronica Majora to revise and continue the work of his predecessor. Matthew Paris’s own narrative is an extraordinarily comprehensive and masterly survey of both English and continental history during almost an entire quarter of a century. We know little of the details of the historian’s own life. He became a monk of St. Albans in 1217, and tradition ascribes to him not only a high repute for scholarship, but the possession of varied gifts as an artist. The most notable incident in his career was his employment by the pope, in 1248, on a mission of reform to the Benedictine monks of Holm, in Norway, which kept him away from England for some eighteen months. He lived, throughout, in close intimacy with the court, and, notwithstanding his plain-spokenness, enjoyed a share of royal favour. He died in 1259. Courtier and scholar, monk and man of the world, Matthew Paris was, both by training and position, exceptionally well qualified to undertake a history of his own time. Moreover, he had the instinct, the temper and the judgment of the born historian. He took immense pains in the collection and the verification of his facts, and appears to have been in constant communication with a host of correspondents both at home and abroad. Indeed, his work reads like a stately journal of contemporary European events, where everything is marshalled in due order and proportion by a master editorial hand. Great events and small follow each other in quick, though

  35

orderly, succession, just as in some modern review of the world’s work. Simon de Montfort’s preparations for his crusade; a dispute between the scholars and citzens of Oxford; the death of Llywelyn, prince of Wales; the pope’s dealings with foreign clerks in England; a great storm; the decapitation of certain robbers; war in Flanders; the burning of heretics by the Milanese; the irruption of the Tartars—such is a brief selection of topics culled at random from a few consecutive pages of Matthew’s Chronicle. But he is much more than a mere recorder of events. He is a fearless critic and censor of public men and their doings. A thoroughly patriotic Englishman, he is severe upon all misgovernment, openly rebuking the king, denouncing the greed and rapacity of the nobles, protesting indignantly against the extortionate exactions of the pope. He is not, indeed, altogether free from the professional bias of his class; and in nothing is this more apparent than in his obviously prejudiced references to the mendicant orders. But his criticisms as a whole are animated by a transparently honest fervour of moral indignation and by a patriotic jealousy for the honour of England. The pope’s emissaries are “harpies and bloodsuckers, plunderers, who do not merely shear, but skin, the sheep.” For his complacent acquiescence in the deeds of the papal legates the king is denounced as having become to the clergy “as it were the stalk of a reed—on which those who lean in confidence are wounded by the fragments.” The king’s own extortionate demands for money from the clergy are no less boldly condemned, while his foolishness and extravagance are constantly censured. These outspoken animadversions did not, however, blind Henry to Matthew’s skill as a writer, and the chronicler relates how, during the celebration of the feast of Edward the Confessor, in 1247, the sovereign himself bade him take a seat near the throne and write a full account of the proceedings so that the facts might stand accurately recorded for ever. Matthew was, indeed, a ready and a picturesque writer. Though frequently prolix and rhetorical, he is never tedious or irrelevant. His narrative, as a rule, is wonderfully direct, clear and nervous, while his instinct for order and literary effect is such as to give to his Chronicle, as a whole, a únity and a sustained interest which belong to the work of no other English medieval historian.  Matthew Paris quite overshadows every other chronicler of the time of Henry III. But much of the history of Henry’s reign would remain obscure were Paris’s Chronicle not supplemented by the monumental work of Henry of Bracton, or Bratton, on the laws of England. Bracton scarcely belongs to the chroniclers; but his writings throw sufficient light upon the social conditions of his time to entitle him to stand side by side with Matthew Paris as a contributor to the English history of the thirteenth century. Following in the footsteps of Ranulf de Glanville (or Hubert Walter), Henry II’s great justiciar, Henry of Bracton compiled, some time between 1250 and 1258, an elaborate treatise on the laws and customs of England. Bracton was one of the many ecclesiastics who held high judicial office under Henry III. He was, in turn, a justice in eyre, a judge of the king’s court, a Devonshire rector and archdeacon of Barnstaple. In addition to his legal treatise he left behind him a note-book, containing some two thousand cases taken from the plea rolls of his time, with comments which “to all appearance came from Bracton’s hand or from Bracton’s head.” 23  Indebted though he was for the form and method of this great book to such foreign works as those of the celebrated Italian lawyer Azo of Bologna, Bracton’s work, is, in substance, thoroughtly English, and is a laborious exposition, illustrated by some hundreds of decisions, of the approved practice of the king’s court in England. Bracton died in 1268, leaving his work unfinished, although he appears to have been adding to and annotating it to the very last; but, even as it stands, his treatise is not only the most authoritative English law-book of his time, but, in design and matter, “the crown and flower of English medieval jurisprudence.” 24  It “both marks and makes a critical moment in the history of law, and, therefore, in the essential history of the English people.” 25 

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Note 23. Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law, ed.1898, vol. I, P. 207. [ back ]Note 24. Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law, ed.1898, vol. I, p. 206. [ back ]Note 25. Bracton’s Note Book, ed. Maitland, vol. I, p. I. [ back ]

§ 20. Minor Chroniclers.

The art of the historian proper, however, gradually began to decline after the death of Matthew Paris. Among the chroniclers who take us down to the fourteenth century there are few names worthy of a place in a history of literature. Prominent among them are Matthew’s own followers at St. Albans, William Rishanger and John of Trokelowe; Nicholas Trivet or Trevet, a Dominican friar, whose works are of considerable historical importance for the reign of Edward I and of additional literary interest in connection

  37

with Chaucer’s Man of Law’s Tale; Walter of Hemingburgh, a canon of the Yorkshire priory of Guisburn, who not unworthily continues the work of the northern school; John de Tayster, or Taxster, a monk of St. Edmundsbury, who adds to a compilation from previous chroniclers what seems to be an original narrative for the years 1258-65; and Thomas Wykes, a monk of Osney, whose chronicle extends down to 1289, and is an authority of the first importance “for the whole history of the campaign of Lewes and Evesham, and the events immediately preceding and following them.” 26  But these, and other writers, are largely subdued to the monastic atmosphere in which they work, and possess few of the traits of character and style which interest us in the personality of the greater chroniclers. The impulse of the revival of learning had been spent, and neither in literary distinction nor in accuracy and wealth of information are the chroniclers who wrote during the hundred years after Matthew Paris’s death worthy of comparison with their predecessors of the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries. The best of them are those who by their industry at least, endeavoured down to the end of the fourteenth century to retain for St. Albans as a historical school the supreme repute which had been so signally established by Matthew Paris.

Note 26. Luard, Annales Monastici, IV (Rolls Series> [ back ]

X. English Scholars of Paris and Franciscans of Oxford.

§ 1. The University of Paris.

THE University of Paris owed its origin to the cathedral school of Notre-Dame. It was not until the time of William of Champeaux (d. 1121) that this school began to rival the scholastic fame of Chartres. Early in the thirteenth century the schools of Paris were connected with three important churches. On the Ile de la Cite there was the cathedral of Notre-Dame; to the south of the Seine, on rising ground near the site of the present Panthéon, was the collegiate church of Sainte-Genevi`ve; and, to the east of the walls south of the river, the church of Canons Regular at the Abbey of St. Victor. The schools of Notre-Dame and of Sainte-Geneviève were successively the scenes of the ever-memorable lectures of a famous pupil of William of Champeaux, the eloquent, brilliant, vain, impulsive and self-confident disputant, Abelard (d. 1142). The fame of his teaching made Paris the resort of large numbers of scholars, whose presence led to its becoming the home of the many masters by whom the university was ultimately founded. The earliest trace of this university has been discovered in the passage where Matthew Paris states that his own preceptor, an abbot of St. Albans, had, as a student in Paris, been admitted into “the fellowship of the elect Masters” (c. 1170). 1  In 1136, when John of Salisbury went to Paris, the university was not yet in existence. The first recorded “town and gown” riot, that of 1200, led to the grant of a charter to the resident body of Masters; the approximate date of the first statutes, ten years later, marks the earliest recognition of the university as a legally constituted corporation, a veritable universitas; and, about ten years later still, the Masters of Arts were first organised into four nations, namely, the French, the Normans, the Picards and the English, this last including the Germans and all who came from the north and the east of Europe. In the thirteenth century Paris was still the centre of European culture. It is sufficient to cite as proof a passage from the English encyclopaedist Bartholomew, who flourished in the middle of that century: Even as Athens shone of old as the mother of liberal arts and the nurse of philosophers, so, in our day, Paris has raised the standard of learning and civilisation, not only in France but all the rest of Europe; and, as the mother of wisdom, she welcomes guests from all parts of the world, supplies all their wants and submits them all to her pacific rule. 2 

  1

  The carnival riot of 1229 led to the withdrawal of the resident Masters and Scholars for two years; meanwhile, many of them accepted the invitation of Henry III, and thus reinforced the rising universities of Oxford and Cambridge.

  2

Note 1. Gesta Abbatum, I, 217, ed. 1867. [ back ]Note 2. XV, C. 57. [ back ]

§ 2. English Scholars of Paris: John of Salisbury.

The first important representative of England in the schools of Paris was John of Salisbury. He began by becoming a pupil of Abelard, who had returned to the scene of his early triumphs, and at the age of 57, was now lecturing on the hill of Sainte-Geneviève. That “illustrious and admirable teacher” was discoursing, as of old, on logic; and “at his feet” John of Salisbury “acquired the first rudiments of dialectics, greedily seizing all that fell from his lips.” But his brilliant instructor was once more opposed, and once more withdrew from Paris; and the pupil passed into the school of Master Alberic and Robert of Melun. The first was, “in questions, acute and expansive”; the second, “in responses, brief and lucid”; and, if “anyone could have combined the merits of both, he would have been unrivalled in debate.” 3  Having thus studied logic for two years (1136–8) in Paris, John of Salisbury spent three years (probably the latter part of 1138, and a large part of 1139 and 1140) working at “grammar,” or the scholarly study of Latin literature. The place is not named, but it has, rightly, been identified as the school of Chartres. 4  In that school the sound and healthy tradition of Bernard of Chartres was still maintained by his pupils. By John of Salisbury’s time, Bernard had been succeeded as chancellor of the cathedral school by Gilbert de la Porrée. John of Salisbury learnt rhetoric from Richard L’Évêque, who was “familiar with almost every branch of learning, whose knowledge was even greater than his eloquence, who had more truth than vanity, more virtue than show.” 5  He had already attended, with less profit, the somewhat meagre lectures of Bernard’s younger brother, Theodoric, who is nevertheless described as “a most studious investigator of the Arts.”  6  This description was confirmed in 1888, when he was identified as the author of two large volumes containing a comprehensive Survey of the Liberal Arts, written in a bold and clear hand, which may now be seen in the public library of the cathedral town. It may be added that it was between 1134 and 1150, during the time when Theodoric was successively “master of the school” and chancellor, that the south doorway of the west front of the cathedral was adorned with figures of the seven arts, each of them associated with the ancient representative of that art, for example, grammar with Priscian, dialectic with Aristotle and rhetoric with Cicero.

  3

  It was probably early in 1141 that John returned to Paris. For a short time he attended not only the lectures of Gilbert, who had lately ceased to be chancellor of Chartres, but also those of Robert Pullen, the future cardinal, who had taught at Oxford in 1133. Socially, he saw much of Adam du Petit Pont, who owed his surname to the school that he had set up on the little bridge between the Ile de la Cité and the Quartier Latin.

  4

  John of Salisbury’s student life in Paris, and Chartres, and again in Paris, probably extended from early in 1136 to late in 1145. In the spring of 1148 he was present at the council of Rheims. It was there that he was introduced by Bernard of Clairvaux to Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury, an introduction that had an important effect on his literary and ecclesiastical career.

  5

  About 1150 he returned to England, and resided mainly at the court of Canterbury, engaged on secretarial and diplomatic work, which frequently took him to the court of Rome. On the most celebrated of these visits, during the winter of 1155–6, his friend the English pope, Hadrian IV, sent Henry II his written authority to extend his rule over Ireland, together with an emerald ring in token of his right. 7  It was probably John of Salisbury’s eager interest in the privileges of the church while he was still in the service of Theobald that led to his soon falling into disfavour with the king. During the enforced leisure of 1159 he revised and completed two of his most extensive works, finishing the Policraticus shortly before, and the Metalogicus immediately after, the death of Hadrian IV (3I August, 1159). Both of these were dedicated to Becket, the warlike chancellor, with whose aid Henry II was then “fulminating” at the siege of Toulouse. 8  When Becket became archbishop in 1162, John of Salisbury entered his service, and, soon afterwards, composed a Life of archbishop Anselm with a view to the canonisation which was not conceded until three centuries later. On the king’s return, early in 1163, John of Salisbury found it safest to leave the country, staying for six or seven years with Peter de la Celle, then abbot of Rheims, under whose roof he wrote the Historia Pontificalis. His exile, like that of Becket, lasted till late in 1170. On the fatal 29th of December he was at Canterbury with the archbishop, who unhappily disregarded the counsels of moderation suggested by his devoted friend. They entered the cathedral together. In the face of the murderous attack on the archbishop’s person, John of Salisbury seems to have fled at first, but to have soon returned to the post of peril. He was probably present at the end. He was certainly believed by his friend Peter to have been “sprinkled with the precious blood of the blessed martyr.”  9 

  6

  He immediately urged the inclusion of his master’s name in the calendar of martyrs, wrote his Life, and loyally served his successor. In 1176 his devotion to the memory of St. Thomas and his friendship with the archbishop of Sens led to John of Salisbury being made bishop of Chartres. For the last four years of his life

  7

he was the most prominent personage in the place where he had spent three of the most successful years of his youth. In the necrology of his cathedral church he is described as vir magnae religionis, totiusque scientiae radiis illustratus.  His Letters give abundant proof of his wide influence as a sagacious counsellor, an able politician and a zealous ecclesiastic. They were collected and edited by himself soon after 1170. Of the 326 comprised in the modern editions, some were written after the above date, and some by other writers. His Entheticus, an elegiac poem of no less than 1852 lines, was, apparently, intended as an introduction to Policraticus, which is now preceded by a short set of verses bearing the same title as the above poem. In both of these poems, which are written in a strong and solid but not particularly elegant style, Becket is warmly eulogised. He is the king’s right hand, the embodiment of all excellence, the refuge of the oppressed, the light of the church, the glory of the nation. 10 

  8

  The Policraticus is a work in eight books. The primary title has led to its being regarded as a “statesman’s handbook.” The alternative title, De Nugis Curialium, et Vestigiis Philosophorum, is suggestive of a satire on the vanities of courtiers, followed by a set treatise on morals; but the latter half deals with the principles of government, and with matters of philosoply and learning, interspersed with many digressions. It is, in fact an “encyclopaedia of miscellanies,” reflecting the cultivated thought of the middle of the twelfth century. It includes an interesting chapter on Aristotle, 11  and a satirical account of the scholastic controversies of the age.

  9

  The Metalogicus, in four books, contains a defence of the method and use of logic, vindicating the claims of “grammar,”and pleading for an intelligent study of logic. It includes an analysis of the whole series of Aristotle’s treatises on that subject, being, in fact, the earliest work in the Middle Ages in which every part of the Organon is turned to account.

  10

  The Historia Pontificalis is only preserved in an incomplete form in a single manuscript at Bern; it was not printed until 1886, and was not identified as the work of John of Salisbury until 1873. It gives an account of the ecclesiastical history of the years 1148 to 1152 but is really as much a satire as a history.

  11

  In his attitude towards the ancient classics, John of Salisbury is far from regarding Aristotle as infallible; he is opposed to Plato, though he is fully conscious of Plato’s greatness. His favourite author is Cicero, and the purity of his own Latin prose has been justly praised. Caesar and Tacitus he knows solely by name; but in all the literature accessible to him he is obviously the best read scholar of his time. A humanist two centuries in advance of his age, he is eager to give the widest possible interpretation to “whatsoever things were written aforetime for our learning.”  12 

  12

  In his day the first period in the medieval study of logic was drawing towards its close, and with the degenerate type of the professional dialectician he has no sympathy. The earliest of all the medieval theories on the nature and the functions of the state is due to John of Salisbury. He is the first of modern writers on the philosophy of politics, and he founds his own theory on the records of the Old Testament and on the annals of the ancient Roman empire.

  13

Note 3. Metalogicus, II, IO. [ back ]Note 4. Schaarschmidt, Joh. Saresberiensis, p. 22. [ back ]Note 5. Metalogicus, loc. cit. [ back ]Note 6. Metalogicus, I, 5. [ back ]Note 7. Metalogicus, IV, 42. [ back ]Note 8. Policraticus, VIII, 25. [ back ]Note 9. Petrus Cellensis, Ep. 117. [ back ]Note 10. Migne, P. L. CXCIX, 379, 993 [ back ]Note 11. VII, 6. [ back ]Note 12. Cf. Prologue to Policraticus, VII. [ back ]

§ 3. Peter of Blois.

As a representative of literature and learning, Peter of Blois is only a pale reflection of John of Salisbury. Born at Blois, he was probably educated at Tours; he learnt and taught at Bologna and Paris, settled in England about 1175 as secretary to Richard of Dover, archbishop of Canterbury, and was successively

  14

archdeacon of Batch (c. 1177) and of London (c. 1204). He was repeatedly entrusted with diplomatic duties by Henry II, and the Letters ascribed to him purport to have been originally collected at the request of the king. But some of them—for example, those on the capture of Damietta in 1219—could not possibly have been written during the life of the king, who died in 1189, or during that of Peter of Blois, who died in or before 1212. Peter of Blois, on his appointment as secretary to the archbishop in 1175, obviously made a diligent study of the Letters of John of Salisbury, who had edited his Letters soon after 1170, while Peter did not begin to edit his own until 1181, the year after John of Salisbury’s death. Many of Peter’s Letters are enriched with quotations from the classics, but most of those quotations are borrowed from John of Salisbury. Thus, in a letter to the archdeacon of Nantes, we have a list of ancient grammarians, and a second list of ancient historians.  13  Both of these are borrowed from John of Salisbury;  14  but, while John of Salisbury modestly refers his readers to Tacitus, without professing to have read that author, Peter of Blois pretends to have “frequently looked into” Tacitus,—an author never mentioned by such well-informed contemporaries as Giraldus Cambrensis and Ralph of Diceto. Criticised for his constant quotations, he defends a manner of composition which places him “like a dwarf on the shoulders of giants”  15 ; but this very comparison is tacitly taken from John of Salisbury, who honestly quotes it from Bernard of Chartres. 16  It is improbable that Peter was ever an actual pupil of the scholar to whom he owed so much of his borrowed erudition; but, curiously enough, he held preferment at Chartres, and also at Salisbury. His brief Sermons call for no comment. Of his few poems the longest deals with the sacraments in twenty-six chapters of riming hexameters; while two others, written in a different metre, have for their themes the life of the clergy, and the conflict between the flesh and the spirit.

Note 13. Ep. 101. [ back ]Note 14. Policraticus, VIII, 18. [ back ]Note 15. Ep. 92. [ back ]Note 16. Metalogicus, III, 4. [ back ]

§ 4. Walter Map.

Walter Map, who was born about 1137 on the marches of Wales, and accordingly called England his mother, and the Welsh his fellow-countrymen, studied in Paris from about 1154 to 1160. He returned to England before 1162, was frequently one of the king’s itinerant judges, and, after holding other preferment, was appointed archdeacon of Oxford in 1197. About 1209, when Giraldus published the second edition of his Conquest of Ireland, 17  Walter Map was no longer living.

  15

  Map was the author of an entertaining miscellany in Latin prose, De Nugis Curialium, a work in a far lighter vein than that of John of Salisbury, who had adopted this as an alternative title of his Policraticus. But, even in this lighter vein, Map has often a grave moral purpose. Stories of the follies and crimes of courts, and a lament over the fall of Jerusalem are here followed by an account of the origin of the Carthusians, the Templars and the Hospitallers, with reflections on their growing corruption, and a violent attack on the Cistercians, together with notices of heretics and of hermits. In the second book we have anecdotes of the Welsh, with a collection of fairy-tales; in the third, a series of highly romantic stories; in the fourth, the “Epistle of Valerius dissuading from marriage the philosopher Rufinus” (sometimes erroneously ascribed to St. Jerome); and, in the fifth, an invaluable sketch of the history of the English court from William Rufus to Henry II. Walter Map’s “courtly jests” are mentioned by Giraldus Cambrensis, who, in his latest work, describes Map as a person of distinction, endued with literary skill and with the wit of a courtier, and as having spent his youth (and more than his youth) in reading and writing poetry.  18  Giraldus sends his friend a set of Latin elegiacs, with a present of a walking-stick, and he has fortunately preserved the twelve lines of his friend’s reply in the same metre.  19  This reply is almost the only certainly genuine product of Map’s muse that has survived. Of his poems against the Cistercian monks, only a single line is left: Lancea Longini, grex albus, ordo nefandus. 20  His notorious antipathy to the Cistercian order has led to his being regarded as the author of another poem entitled Discipulus Goliae episcopi de grisis monachis. 21  The worldly, and worse than worldly bishop Golias is the theme of other poems, in accentual riming metres, ascribed to Map, notably the Apocalypse, the Confession and the Metamorphosis of Golias. The Apocalypse is first assigned to him in a Bodleian manuscript of the fourteenth century. Here there is no attempt to dramatise the character of Golias; we have simply an apocalyptic vision of the corruptions of the

  16

church set forth in 110 riming quatrains of accentual dactyls in lines of the type: Omnis a clericis fluit enormitas. In the accentual trochaics of the Confession, the bishop is dramatically represented as remembering “the tavern that he has never scorned, nor ever will scorn until the angels sing his requiem.” Then follow the four lines, which are better known and more misunderstood than any in the poem.

       Meum est propositum in taberna mori:Vinum sit appositum morientis ori, Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori, “Deus sit propitius huic potatori!”

These lines, with part of the subsequent context, were at an early date extracted from their setting and made into a drinking-song; but it cannot be too clearly stated that they were originally meant for a dramatic representation of the character of the degenerate “bishop.” It is a mistake to regard them as reflecting in any way on the habits of the reputed author, who has been erroneously described as the “jovial archdeacon” and the “Anacreon of his age.” Giraldus, in the very same work in which he lauds the literary skill and the wit of his friend, quotes for reprobation, and not for imitation, a series of calumnious passages, including the above lines with their immediately previous context.  22  He is clearly quite innocent of ascribing these lines to his friend. The whole of the Confession is also preserved in the celebrated thirteenth century Munich MS. of the Carmina Burana, formerly belonging to the Benedictine monastery of Benedictbeuern in the Bavarian highlands. It forms part of the vast number of anonymous Latin rimes known from 1227 onwards by the name of Goliardi. The character of Bishop Golias may possibly have assumed dramatic form in the age of Walter Map, but the name was certainly three centuries older. As early as the time of Gautier, archbishop of Sens (d. 923), a sentence of condemnation is passed on the clerici ribaldi, maxime qui vulgo dicuntur de familia Goliae 23   Map is credited in certain MSS. with the authorship of the “original” Latin of the great prose romance of Lancelot du Lac, including the Quest of the Holy Grail and the Death of Arthur; but no such “Latin original” has yet been found. A version of the Quest in French prose is assigned to “Maistres Gualters Map,” and is described as “written by him for the love of his lord, King Henry, who caused it to be translated from Latin into French.” In certain manuscripts, all the four parts of the romance of Lancelot are ascribed to Map; and Hue de Rote-lande (c. 1185), a near neighbour and a contemporary of Map, after describing in his I pomedon a tournament, which is also an incident in Lancelot, excuses his romance-writing in the words: “I am not the only man who knows the art of lying; Walter Map knows well his part of it.”  24  Such is the evidence, slight as it is, for ascribing to Map any share in the great cycle of romance surveyed in other chapters.  25  We have already seen that there is very little reason for accepting him as the author of any part of the large body of accentual Latin poetry which passes under his name. The only thirteen lines of Latin verse which are certainly genuine products of his pen are written in hexameters and pentameters of the strictly classical type.

  17

Note 17. V, 410. [ back ]Note 18. IV, 140. [ back ]Note 19. I, 363. [ back ]Note 20. Latin Poems, P. XXXV. [ back ]Note 21. Ib., p. 54. [ back ]Note 22. IV, 293. [ back ]Note 23. Labbé’s Concilia, 1671, IX, 578. [ back ]Note 24. H. L. D. Ward’s Catalogue of Romances, I, 734–41. [ back ]Note 25. See especially post, Chapter XII. [ back ]

§ 5. Other Writers of Latin.

A century before the time of Map, Godfrey, a native of Cambrai, and prior of St. Swithin’s, Winchester (d. 1107), had written Latin epigrams after the manner of Martial. He is, in fact, repeatedly quoted as “Marcial” by Gower. The 238 ordinary epigrams of his first book are followed by nineteen others, which have a historic interest, in so far as they refer to royal or ecclesiastical persons of the day. The AngloNorman poet Reginald, a monk of St. Augustine’s, Canterbury (fl. 1112), wrote a lengthy poem in leonine hexameters on the life of the Syrian hermit St. Malchus. In the next half century, Lawrence, the Benedictine monk who became prior and

bishop of Durham (d. 1154), composed a popular summary of Scripture history in nine books of elegiac verse. Henry of Hunttingdon (d. 1155) has preserved in the eleventh book of his Historia Anglorum, the Latin epigrams and other minor poems that he had learnt to compose as a pupil of the monks of Ramsey. A little later, Hilarius, who is supposed to have been an Englishman, and was a pupil of Abelard about 1125, wrote in France three Latin plays on sacred themes, the earliest of their kind. The Raising of Lazarus and the Image of St. Nicholas are partly written in French; the Story of Daniel in Latin only. He is also the author of twelve interesting sets of riming lyrics, in Latin, interspersed with a few lines of French, the most graceful poem in the series being addressed to an English maiden bearing the name of Rose. About the same time the Cistercian monk Henry of Saltrey (fl. 1150), wrote a Latin prose version of the legend of the Purgatory of St. Patrick. A life of Becket, now only known through the Icelandic Thomas Saga, was written by Robert of Cricklade, chancellor of Oxford (1159) and prior of St Frideswide’s, who dedicated to Henry II his nine books of Flores from the Natural History of the elder Pliny.

§ 6. Gervase.

One of Map’s younger contemporaries, Gervase, the author the Otia Imperialia, a native of Tilbury on the coast of Essex, was brought up in Rome; he lectured on law at Bologna, and probably died in England. The above work was written about 1211 to amuse the leisure hours of the German emperor, Otto IV. It is a miscellaneous collection of legendary tales and superstitions. The theme of the first three books and many of the quotations are borrowed, without acknowledgment, from the Historia Scholastica of that omnivorous compiler Petrus Comestor. The third book tells us of werewolves and lamias and barnacle-geese and other marvels, and also of the enchantments ascribed to Vergil at Naples.

§ 7. Nigel Wireker.

Another of Map’s contemporaries, Nigel Wireker, precentor of Christ Church, Canterbury (d. 1200), was the witty author of the Speculum Stultorum, a long elegiac poem on the adventures of the donkey “Burnellus,” or “Brunellus,” a diminutive of “Brown” (just as “donkey” is a diminutive of “dun”). The name is borrowed from the scholastic logic of the day, in which it represents any particular horse or ass, as opposed to the abstract idea of either of those animals.  26 

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  The author himself explains that the ass of his satire is a monk who, discontented with his condition, wants to get rid of his old stump of a tail, and obtain a new and longer appendage by becoming a prior or an abbot. Brunellus, then, finding his tail too short, consults Galen on his malady, and is, ultimately, sent off to Salerno with a satirical prescription, which he is to bring back in glass bottles, typical of the vanity and frailty of all human things. On his way there and back he is attacked by merchants and monks and mastiffs, and is thus robbed of all his scanty goods, and half of his diminutive tail. Ashamed to return home, and having an immense capacity for patient labour, he resolves on becoming a member of the English school in the university of Paris. Then follows a satire on the idleness and extravagance of some of the English students at that seat of learning. After spending seven years in studying the liberal arts and thus “completing” his education, he finds on leaving Paris that he has even forgotten the name of the place. However, he succeeds in recalling one syllable, but that is enough, for he has learnt in his time that “the part may stand for the whole.” Passing from the liberal arts to theology, the hero of the story tries all the monastic orders in their turn, and ends in resolving to found an order of his own. Meeting Galen once more, he begins discussing the state of the church and the general condition of society, and urges Galen to join his new order, when, suddenly, his old master, Bernard, appears on the scene, and compels him to return to his first allegiance as an ordinary monk. Chaucer, in The Nonne Preestes Tale, recalls one of the stories he had “rad in daun Burnel the Asse.” 27 

  21

Note 26. Immanuel Weber, De Nigello Wirekero, Leipzig Dissertation, 1679. [ back ]Note 27. Canterbury Tales, 15318. [ back ]

§ 8. Jean de Hauteville; Alain de Lille.

The Architrenius or “Arch-Mourner” of the Norman satirist Jean de Hauteville ((fl. 1184), who was born near Rouen and passed part of his life in England, has only a slight connection with our present subject. The pilgrim of that satire pays a visit to Paris, and describes the hardships of the students and the fruitlessness of their studies; he afterwards arrives at the hill of Presumption, which is the haunt of all manner of monks and ecclesiastics, as well as the great scholastic doctors and professors. The seven liberal arts are elaborately described in the Anti-Claudianus of the Universal Doctor, Alain de Lille (1114-1203). This fine poem, and the mingled prose and verse of the De Planctu Naturae, were familiar to Chaucer. Alain probably passed some time in England with the Cistercians at Waverley in Surrey (1128), and he is the reputed author of a commentary on the prophecies of Merlin.

§ 9. Geoffrey de Vinsauf; Alexander Neckam.

Alain’s contemporary Geoffrey de Vinsauf (fl. 1200), who was educated at St. Frideswide’s, Oxford, and travelled in France and Italy, dedicated to Innocent III his Poëetria Nova, an Art of Poetry founded partly on Horace, and recommending the ancient metres in preference to the modern rimes, with examples of the various kinds of composition. In the same period Alexander Neckam, of St. Albans, distinguished himself in Paris in 1180, and, late in life, became abbot of Cirencester. He is the author of an amusing treatise De Naturis Rerum, with many anecdotes of animals, and with an attack on the method of teaching logic in the university of Paris. In his lengthy elegiac poem De Laudibus Divinae Sapientiae he traverses much of the same ground. He further describes the chief seats of learning in his day, summing up in a single couplet the four faculties in the university of Paris, the paradisus deliciarum:

       Hic florent artes; coelestis pagina regnat;Stant leges; lucet jus; medicina viget  28 .

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Note 28. P. 453 ed. Wright, in Rolls Series, 1863. [ back ]

§ 10. Joannes de Garlandia.

Joannes de Garlandia, who studied at Oxford and Paris (1204), was an Englishman by birth, but regarded France as the land of his adoption. His two principal poems, De Mysteriis and De Triumphis Ecclesiae, are earlier than 1252. His Ars Rhythmica quotes whole poems as examples of the rules of rhythm. His prose works include three Vocabularies, one of which, with its interlinear French glosses and its reference to the tricks played by Parisian glovers on inexperienced students, was clearly written for use in the university of Paris.

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  Later in the same century, a chaplain of Eleanor of Provence, queen of Henry III, named John Hoveden (d. 1275), wrote a number of poems in riming quatrains. The longest of these consists of nearly 4000 lines of meditation on the life of Christ. This was translated into French. His most popular poem, that beginning with the line Philomela, praevia temporis amoeni, was translated into German and Spanish and, about 1460, into English.

§ 11. Giraldus Cambrensis.

Latin verse was one of the early amusements of the keen and active Noman-Welshman Giraldus Cambrensis, who was born at the castle of Manorbier, which he dutifully describes as “the sweetest spot in Wales”  29  The grandson, on his mother’s side, of Nest, “the Helen of Wales,” he celebrated the exploits of her heroic descendants, the Geraldines, in one of his earliest works, the Conquest of Ireland. He had himself inherited some of Nest’s beauty; he tells us that, in his youthful days, an abbot of the Cistercian order once

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said of him in the presence of Baldwin, then bishop of Worcester, “Is it possible that Youth, which is so fair, can ever die?”  30 He received his early education from two of the chaplains of his uncle, the bishop of St. David’s. After continuing his studies at St. Peter’s abbey, Gloucester, he paid three visits to Paris, spending three periods of several years in its schools, and giving special attention to rhetoric. We have his own authority for the fact that, when his lecturers desired to point out a model scholar, they mentioned Gerald the Welshman  31 .  As archdeacon of Brecon (1175–1203) he was an ardent reformer of ecclesiastical abuses in his native land, and his great disappointment in life was that he never became (like his uncle) bishop of St. David’s. On the first of several occasions when he was thus disappointed, he returned to Paris, and there studied for three years, besides lecturing with great success on canon law (1177–80). Visits to Ireland followed in 1183 and 1185, when he was in attendance on prince John. After the prince’s return Gerald stayed till Easter, 1186, collecting materials for his two works on Ireland. The Topography was completed in 1188. In the following year he resolved on reciting it publicly at Oxford, “where the most learned and famous of the English clergy were then to be found.” He read one of the three divisions of the work on each of three successive days. “On the first [he informs us] he received and entertained at his lodgings all the poor of the town; on the next, all the doctors of the different faculties, and such of their pupils as were of fame and note; and, on the third, the rest of the scholars with the soldiers and the townsmen.” He complacently assures us that “it was a costly and noble act; a revival of the bygone ages of poetry”; and (he proudly adds) “neither present nor past time could furnish any record of such a solemnity having ever taken place in England.”  32 

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  Meanwhile, in 1188, Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury, had been sent to Wales to preach the coming crusade. Riding in full armour at the head of the procession, with the white cross gleaming on his brestplate, he was accompanied by Ranulf de Glanville, chief justiciar of England, and attended by a young man of slender figure, delicate features and beetling eyebrows, a man of learning and wit, and with no small share of self-conceit, “the leader of the clergy of St. David’s, the scion of the blood-royal of Walves.” The archbishop’s exhortations produced little effect on the common people, until he prompted Gerald to take up the preaching. At Haverford Gerald discoursed in Latin and also in French. Although the crowd understood neither language, they were moved to tears by the magic of his eloquence and no less than two hundred joined the standard of the cross.  33  It was pleasantly remarked soon afterwards that if Gerald had only discoursed in Welsh not a single soldier would have failed to follow that banner. Three thousand recruits were enrolled; the archbishop and the chief justiciar had taken the cross at Radnor; and both of them kept their vow and died in 1190 in the course of the crusade. Gerald, meanwhile, had been appointed to write its history in Latin prose, and the archbishop’s nephew, Joseph of Exeter, to write it in verse. Joseph had already composed an epic on the Trojan war, England’s solitary Latin epic, which was long attributed to Cornelius Nepos, notwithstanding its dedication to the archbishop of Canterbury. He celebrated the crusade in his Antiocheis, now represented by a solitary fragment on the Flos Regum Arthurus. Gerald, however, neither went on the crusade, nor wrote its history; he paid his fine and he stayed at home to help the king to keep the peace in his a native land, and to write the Itinerary and the Description of Wales.

  28

  When the bishopric of St. David’s once more fell vacant, Gerald struggled for five years to win the prize of his ambition, paying three visits to Rome, in 1199, 1201 and 1203, without success. But he was considered by himself and his fellow countrymen to have waged a glorious contest. “Many and great wars,” said the prince of Powys, “have we Welshmen waged with England, but none so great and fierce as his, who fought the king and the archbishop, and withstood the might of the whole clergy and people of England, for the honour of Wales 34 .”

  29

  He had already declined two other bishoprics in Wales and four in Ireland. When the see of St. David’s was again vacant, in 1214, he was passed over. He probably died in 1223, and was buried in the precincts of the cathedral church, for whose independence he had fought so long. The dismantled tomb which is shown as his probably belongs to a later time. He deserves to be commemorated in that cathedral by the couplet which he placed above his archidiaconal stall, and also enshrined in one of his “epitaphs”.

       Vive Deo, tibi mors requies, tibi vita labori;Vive Deo; mors est vivere, vita mori. 35 

  30

  The first volume of the Rolls edition of Giraldus includes two autobiographies and two lists of his writings. Only the most important need here be noticed. The earliest of his works is the Topography of Ireland. The first book gives an account of its physical features, and its birds and beasts; the second is devoted to the marvels of the country, and the third to the early history, followed by a description of the manners, dress and condition of the inhabitants. One of the MSS. in the British Museum has in the margin

  31

many curious coloured drawings of the birds and beasts described by the author.  36  It is to this work that we owe almost all our knowledge of medieval Ireland.  It was followed by the Conquest of Ireland, a narrative of the events of 1169–85. This is marked by a simpler style and a more sober judgement than the Topography, and is, in fact, a historical monograph of considerable value. But there is much bias, and some unfairness; and an air of unreality is produced by the Irish chiefs, who have Greek patronymics, and harangue their troops with quotations from Ovid and Caesar. Towards the close the author cites the ominous Irish prophecy that “scarcely before the Day of Judgment will Ireland be wholly subdued by the English.”  37 

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  The Itinerary of Wales takes us on a tour of one month in the south, and only eight days in the north. Apart from its topographical and ecclesiastical interest, it introduces us to Gerald as a student of languages. He tells us of a priest who, in his boyhood, paid a visit to fairy-land, and learnt the language, which proved to be akin to Greek; and he gives us one or two specimens in the words for “salt” and “water,” adding the equivalents in Welsh, English, Irish, German and French.  38  It was this passage that once prompted Freeman to call Gerald the “father of comparative philology.”  39  In his own Latin Gerald has no hesitation in using werra for “war,” and knipulus for “pen-knife.”  40  At Cardiff we incidentally learn that Henry II understood English, but could not speak it.  41  In the south our attention is drawn to the vestiges of Roman splendour at Caerleon on Usk, and to the old Roman walls at Carmarthen.

  33

  The companion volume, called the Description of Wales, appeared in two editions (1194, 1215). The author patriotically ascribes to his fellow-countrymen a keenness of intellect that enables them to excel in whatever study they pursue. He extols their set speeches and their songs. He also quotes examples of alliteration in Latin and Welsh. The following are the specimens he selects from the English of his day: “god is to-gedere gamen and wisdom” (it is good to be merry and wise); “ne halt nocht al sor isaid, ne al sorghe atwite” (it boots not to tell every woe nor upbraid every sorrow); “betere is red thene rap, and liste thene lither streingthe” (better is counsel than haste, and tact than vicious strength) 42 . Elsewhere he tells the story of the Englishwoman who, with her mistress, had for a complete year attended daily mass, at which the priest had (besides the oft-repeated Oremus) always used the introit Rorate coeli, desuper; on finding that her mistress had, nevertheless, been disappointed in her desires, she indignantly said to the priest, “Rorisse /??/e rorie ne wrthe nan” (your rories and ories are all to no purpose).  43  He also quotes the phrase, “God holde /??/e, cuning” (God save thee, king), and the refrain of a love-song, "swete lemman, dhin are” (sweet mistress, thy favour).  44  He notes that the language of North Wales is purer than that of the South, that the language of Cornwall and Britanny closely resembles Welsh, that the language of North Wales is purer than that of the South, that the language of the south of England (especially Devonshire) is purer than that of the north and that the English works of Bede and King Alfred were all written in the southern idiom. 45  He also tells his readers how Wales may be conquered, how it should be governed and how it is to hold its own.

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  The Gemma Ecclesiastica was its author’s favourite work. It may, perhaps, be described as a lengthy archidiaconal charge of an exceptionally learned and lively type. It certainly presents us with a vivid picture of the state of morality and learning in Wales, illustrated by not a few stories of ignorance of Latin among the inferior clergy. Thus a priest once interpreted. “St. John ante portam Latinam” to mean that St. John, ante, first, portam, brought, Latinam, the Latin language (into England).  46  This ignorance, which even extended to some of the higher clergy, is, here and elsewhere, attributed to the excessive study of law and logic.  47 

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  The Book of his Acts and Deeds, in the midst of much that is purely personal, tells the story of the holy hermit who prayed that he might attain to the mystery of the Latin language. He was granted the gift of the Latin tongue, without that of the Latin syntax; but he successfully overcame all difficulties of moods and tenses by always using the present infinitive. Gerald once asked this hermit to pray for him that he might understand the Scriptures. The hermit warmly grasped his hand, and gravely added: “Say not understand, but keep; it is a vain thing to understand the word of God, and not to keep it.” 48 

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  The work On the Instruction of a Prince, completed after the death of King John in 1216, is divided into three books. The first, on the duties of the ideal prince, is enriched with many quotations, the virtue of patience being illustrated by nine, and the modesty of princes by thirteen. The second and third include a history of the life and times of Henry II. The main interest lies in the sketches of the characters of the royal family. Gerald here tells the story of the finding of King Arthur’s body at Glastonbury in a coffin bearing the inscription, “Here lies buried the famous King, Arthur, with Guinevere his second wife, in the Isle of Avalon.”  49 

  37

  His other works include a Life of Geoffrey Plantagenet, archbishopof York, and several lives of saints,   38

partly suggested by his stay at Lincoln in 1196–8. His Collection of Extracts from his own works was, naturally, complied later in life. Among his Epistles is one urging Richard I to befriend men of letters, “without whom all his glory would soon pass away.”  50  His latest work, the Mirror of the Church, depicts the principal monastic orders of the time in violent language that, not unnaturally, led the monastic copyists to neglect transcribing, and thus preserving, the author’s writings. The only MS. of this particular work that has survived suffered severely in a fire in the Cottonian library; but the sketch of the state of learning with which it opens, had, happily, already been partly transcribed by Anthony Wood. In the last book Gerald adds a description of the churches in Rome, and closes his writings with an impressive picture of the day of doom.  To the end of his life Gerald remained true to his early devotion to literature; and he hopefully looked forward to the appreciation of posterity.  51  Freeman, in estimating the historical value of his writings, justly characterises him as “vain, garrulous” and “careless as to minute accuracy,” but as also “one of the most learned men of a learned age,” “one who, whatever we may say as to the soundness of his judgment, came behind few in the sharpness of his wits,” “one who looked with a keen if not an impartial eye on all the events and controversies of his own time.”  52 

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Note 29. VI. 93. [ back ]Note 30. IV. 104. [ back ]Note 31. I, 23. [ back ]Note 32. I, pp. xlvii, 72 f. [ back ]Note 33. I, pp. xlix, 76 [ back ]Note 34. I, 129–III, 210. [ back ]Note 35. I, 364, 382 [ back ]Note 36. Bibl. Reg. 13 B VIII (c. 1200), copied in J. R. Green’s Short History, ill. ed. p. 225. [ back ]Note 37. V, 385. [ back ]Note 38. VI, 77. [ back ]Note 39. Norman Conquest, V, 579; cf. Comparative Politics, 486. [ back ]Note 40. II, 292. [ back ]Note 41. VI, 64 f. [ back ]Note 42. VI, 188. [ back ]Note 43. II, 128. [ back ]Note 44. VI, 64; II, 120; cf. IV, 209. [ back ]Note 45. VI, 177, f. [ back ]Note 46. II, 342. [ back ]Note 47. II, 348; III, 29 f. [ back ]Note 48. I, 90 f. [ back ]Note 49. VIII, 126 f. [ back ]Note 50. I, 243. [ back ]Note 51. V. 212, 4II; VI, 7. [ back ]Note 52. VII, p. 1iii. [ back ]

§ 12. Michael Scot.

Among the “English” students at Paris we may briefly mention Michael Scot, who, probably before 1209, learnt Arabic at Palermo, where he lived at the brilliant court of Frederick II, to whom he dedicated three of his earliest works. Leaving Palermo for Toledo about 1209, he there completed a Latin rendering of two Arabic abstracts of Aristotle’s History of Animals. In 1223 he returned to Palermo. He was highly esteemed as a physician and an astrologer, and his reputed skill in magic has been celebrated by Dante, Boccaccio and Sir Walter Scott. He is described by Roger Bacon as introducing to the scholars of the west certain of the physical and metaphysical works of Aristotle, with the commentators on the same.  53  He may have visited Bologna and Paris for this purpose about 1232. He probably died before 1235, and tradition places his burial, as well as his birth, in the Lowlands of Scotland.

  40

  There is no evidence that Michael Scot was ever a student at Oxford. Like Cardinal Curson of Kedleston (d. 1218), and Alexander of Hales (d. 1245), and the able mathematician Johannes de Sacro Bosco–probably of Holywood in Dumfriesshire–(d. 1252), he owed his sole allegiance to Paris. Stephen Langton (d. 1228), who, similarly, studied in Paris only, was restored to England by his consecration as archbishop of Canterbury; his successor, Edmund of Abingdon (d. 1240), owed his first allegiance to Oxford, and his second to Paris.

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Note 53. Opus Majus, III, 66, Bridges. [ back ]

§ 13. Franciscans and Dominicans.

We have seen that the university of Paris originated in the cathedral school of Notre-Dame. The education of Europe might have long remained in the hands of the secular clergy, but for the rise of the new orders of the Franciscans and the Dominicans in the second decade of the thirteenth century. The old monastic orders had made their home in solitary places, far removed from the world, while the aim of the Franciscan order was not to withdraw to the lonely valleys and mountains but to work in the densely crowded towns–

       Bernardus valles, montes Benedictus amabat,Oppida Franciscus.

§ 14. Franciscans of Oxford.

The order of the Franciscans was founded at Assisi in 1210; that of the Dominicans, at Toulouse in 1215; and, at an early date, both orders resolved on establishing themselves in the great seats of education. The Dominicans fixed their headquarters at Bologna and Paris (1217), besides settling at Oxford (1221) and Cambridge (1274); while the Franciscans settled at Oxford and Cambridge in 1224; and at Paris in 1230. When once these orders had been founded, all the great schoolmen were either Franciscans or Dominicans. Intellectually, the dogmatic Dominicans were mainly characterised by a conservative orthodoxy, while the emotional Franciscans were less opposed to novel forms of opinion. In Paris, the greatest Dominican teachers were Albertus Magnus (1193–1280) and his favourite pupil, the great Thomas Aquinas (c. 1225–7–1274), who brought scholasticism to its highest development by harmonising Aristotelianism with the doctrines of the church. The Angelic Doctor was the foremost of the intellectual sons of Saint Dominic, the saint who (in Dante’s phrase) “for wisdom was on earth a splendour of cherubic light.” Meanwhile, Saint Francis, who was “all seraphic in ardour,” and felt no sympathy whatsoever for the intellectual and academic world, nevertheless counted among his fol- lowers men of academic, and even more than academic, renown. Foremost of these were Alexander of Hales, Roger Bacon, Duns Scotus and William of Ockham.

§ 15. Alexander of Hales.

Alexander of Hales, a native of Gloucestershire, studied in Paris at a time when the Physics and Metaphysics were not yet translated into Latin, and also later, when their study had been expressly prohibited (1215). This prohibition lasted until the dispersion of the university in 1229; and (although he may have been lecturer to the Franciscans at an earlier date) it was not until the return of the university in 1231 that he actually joined the order. As one of the leading teachers in Paris, he had a distinguished career. In his scholastic teaching he was an exponenet of realism. He was entrusted by Innocent IV with the duty of preparing a comprehensive Summa Theologiae and the ponderous work, which remained unfinished at his death in 1245, was completed by his pupils seven years later. In its general plan it follows the method of Peter Lombard, being one of the earliest comments on the Master of the Sentences. It was examined and approved by seventy divines, and the author became known as the Irrefragable Doctor; but a still greater Franciscan, Roger Bacon, who describes the vast work as tamquam pondus unius equi, declares that it was behind the times in matters of natural science, and was already being neglected, even by members of the

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author’s own order.  54  The MS. of Alexander’s Exposition of the Apocalypse, in the Cambridge University Library, includes a portrait of the author, who is represented as reverently kneeling in the habit of a Franciscan Friar.  55   St. Francis himself regarded with suspicion the learning of his age. He preferred to have his followers poor in heart and understanding, as well as in their dress and their other belongings. Perfect poverty was, however, obviously incompatible with the purchase of books. A provincial minister of the order, who happended to possess books of considerable value, was not allowed to retain them. In the same spirit, on hearing that a great doctor in Paris had entered the order, St. Francis said to his followers: “I am afraid, my sons, that such doctors will be the destruction of my vineyard.” The preaching of the Franciscans among the common people owed its force less to their learning than to their practical experience. Their care for the sick, and even for the leper, gave a new impulse to medical and physical and experimental science; and they gradually devoted themselves to a more scientific study of theology. In their schools the student was expected to take notes and to reproduce them in the form of a lecture, and this practice, combined with the disputation between the teacher and the learner, brought into play readiness, memory and invention. Speculative theology was, in their hands, modified by the hard facts of practical life. Their sermons, however, not unfrequently appealed to the imagination and the feelings, and did not disdain either the sparkling anecdote or the pleasantly didactic allegory.  56 

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  In September, 1224, two years before the death of the founder, a little band of nine Franciscans was ferried across the Channel by the monks of Fecamp and found a welcome at the priory of Canterbury. Some of them pressed forward to London, where they were received by the Dominicans, while two of them went on to Oxford. The Dominicans had already settled there in 1221, when the church of St. Edward had been assigned them in the Jewry, in the very heart of the town, and a school of theology had been opened under Robert Bacon. For about a week the two Franciscans “ate in the refectory and slept in the dormitory” of the Dominicans  57 ; then they hired a house near St. Ebbe’s in the south-west quarter, whence they soon moved to a marshy plot of ground outside the walls. part of that plot was known as Paradise. In 1245 they were followed by the Dominicans, who left the centre of the town for a suburban spot whose memory is now preserved in the name of Black Friars Road. In olden days, the Trill mill stream flowed past the Grey Friars mill and beneath the “Preachers’ Bridge,” until it reached the two mills of the Black Friars.

  46

  It was probably a migration from Paris that had, meanwhile, made Oxford a studium generale, or a publicly recognised place of studious resort. In 1167, John of Salisbury, then in exile owing to his devotion to the cause of Becket, sent a letter to Peter the Writer, stating that “the votaries of Mercury were so depressed, that France, the mildest and most civilised of nations, had expelled her alien scholars”  58 , and, either in 1165 or in 1169, at a time when many Masters and Scholars beneficed in England were studying in Paris, Henry II required all clerks who possessed revenues in England to return within three months. It has been reasonably assumed that many of the students thus expelled or recalled, from Paris migrated to Oxford. 59  But the earliest certain reference to the schools of Oxford belongs to 1189, when “all the doctors in the different faculties,” and their more distinguished pupils, and the rest of the scholars, were (as we have seen) entertained by Giraldus Cambrensis on the second and third days of his memorable recitation.  60 

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Note 54. Opus Minus, 326 f. [ back ]Note 55. Reproduced in J. R. Green’s Short History, ill. ed., p. 287. [ back ]Note 56. Brewer’s Preface to Monumenta Franciscana, I, xxviii-1v. [ back ]Note 57. Mon. Franc. I, 5-9; II, 9. [ back ]Note 58. Ep. 225 (Migne, P.L. cxcix, 253 A). [ back ]Note 59. Rashdall’s Universities of Europe, II, 329 f. [ back ]Note 60. Giraldus, I, 72 f., 410; III, 92, where Magister Gualterus, magister Oxoniensis, archidiaconus”” is probably a mistake for ”Magister Gualterus Mapus, Oxoniensis, archidiaconus” (cf. I, 412). [ back ]

§ 16. Robert Grosseteste and the Franciscans.

The Franciscan friars of 1224 were well received by the university, and, in those early times, were on excellent terms with the secular clergy. They were men of cheerful temper, and possessed the courtesy and charm that comes from sympathy. From Eccleston’s account of the coming of the Friars Minor we learn

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that, “as Oxford was the principal place of study in England, where the whole body (or universitas) of scholars was wont to congregate, Friar Agnellus (the provincial Head of the Order) caused a school of sufficiently decent appearance to be built on the site where the Friars had settled, and induced Robert Grosseteste of holy memory to lecture to them there; under him they made extraordinary progress in sermons, as well as in subtle moral themes suitable for preaching,” and continued to do so until “he was transferred by Divine Providence from the lecturer’s chair to the episcopal see.”  61  He was already interested in them about 1225  62 ; and, it was, possibly, before 1231 that he was appointed their lecturer. He was then more than fifty years of age, not a friar, but a secular priest, and one of the most influential men in Oxford. To the friars he was much more then a lecturer; he was their sympathetic friend and adviser, and, after he had become bishop of Lincoln in 1235, he repeatedly commended the zeal, piety and usefulness of their order. About 1238, he wrote in praise of them to Gregory IX: “Your Holiness may be assured that in England inestimable benefits have been produced by the Friars; they illuminate the whole land by their preaching and learning.”  63   Grosseteste, a native of Stradbroke in Suffolk, was educated at Oxford. It is often stated that he also studied in Paris; but of this there is no contemporary evidence. It is true that, as bishop of Lincoln, he writes to the regents in theology at Oxford, recommending them to abide by the system of lecturing adopted by the regents in theology in Paris,  64  but he says nothing of Paris in connection with his own education. While he was still at Oxford he held an office corresponding to that of the chancellor in Paris, but he was not allowed by the then bishop of Lincoln to assume any higher title than that of Magister Scholarum.  65  At Oxford he prepared commentaries on some of the logical treatises of Aristotle, and on the Physics, and a translation of the Ethics, which appeared about 1244, was known under his name. He himself produced a Latin rendering of the “middle recension of” the Epistles of Ignatius, beside commenting on Dionysius the Areopagite, and causing a translation to be made of the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, the Greek MS. of which (now in the Cambridge Library) had been brought from Athens by his archdeacon, John of Basingstoke. In his Compendium Scientiarum he classified all the departments of knowledge recognised in his day. The printed list of his works extends over twenty-five quarto pages  66 ; it includes treatises on theology, essays on philosophy, a practical work on husbandry. Perhaps the most interesting of his works is a poem in 1757 lines in praise of the Virgin and Son, an exquisite allegory called the Chateau d’Amour, originally written in “romance” for those who had ne letture ne clergie, and soon translated from French into Latin, and ultimately into English. Robert de Brunne, in his translation of the Manuel des Pechiez, tells us of the bishop’s love for the music of the harp.

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  In the opinion of Luard, the editor of his Letters, “probably no one has had a greater influence upon English thought and English literature for the two centuries that followed his age.” Wyclif ranks him even above Aristotle,  67  and Gower calls him “the grete clerc.”  68  Apart from his important position as a patriot, a reformer and a statesman, and as a friend of Simon de Montfort, he gave, in the words of his latest biographer, F. S. Stevenson, “a powerful impulse to almost every department of intellectual activity, revived the study of neglected languages and grasped the central idea of the unity of knowledge.” One of the earliest leaders of thought in Oxford, a promoter of Greek learning, and an interpreter of Aristotle, he went far beyond his master in the experimental knowledge of the physical sciences. Roger Bacon lauds his knowledge of science, and he is probably referring to Grosseteste when he says that no lectures on optics “have as yet been given in Paris, or anywhere else among the Latins, except twice at Oxford.”  69  Matthew Paris, who resented his zeal for the reform of the monasteries, generously pays the following tribute to his memory: Thus the saintly … bishop of Lincoln passed away from the exile of this world, which he never loved.… He had been the rebuker of pope and king, the corrector of bishops, the reformer of monks, the director of priests, the instructor of clerks, the patron of scholars, the preacher of the people, … the careful student of the Scriptures, the hammer and the contemner of the Romans. At the table of bodily food, he was liberal, courteous and affable: at the table of spiritual food, devout, tearful and penitent: as a prelate, sedulous, venerable and never weary in well-doing.  70 

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Note 61. Mon. Franc. I, 37; cf. ib. 64-66. [ back ]Note 62. Ep.2.. 2. [ back ]Note 63. Ep. 58; cf. Epp. 20, 41, 67. [ back ]Note 64. Ep. 123. [ back ]Note 65. Lincoln Register (Rashdall, II, 355 n. 2). [ back ]

Note 66. Life by Pegge (1793). [ back ]Note 67. Trial, IV, c. 3. [ back ]Note 68. Conf. Am.IV, 234. [ back ]Note 69. Opera Inedita, 33, 37, 472. [ back ]Note 70. Chronica Majora, V, 407, ed. Luard. [ back ]

§ 17. Adam Marsh.

Grosseteste’s friend Adam Marsh, who had been educated under him at Oxford and had entered the priesthood, joined the Franciscan order shortly after 1226. The first four lecturers to the Franciscans in Oxford (beginning with Grosseteste) were seculars; the first Franciscan to hold that office was Adam Marsh,  71  who was probably appointed for the year 1247–8. Provision was then made for a regular succession of teachers, and soon there were fifty Franciscan lectureships in various parts of England. Out of love for Adam Marsh, Grosseteste left his library to the Oxford Franciscans.  72  Like Grosseteste, he is a friend and adviser to Simon de Montfort, and faithfully tells him that “he who can rule his own temper is better than he who storms a city.”  73  The king and the archbishop of Canterbury urged his appointment as bishop of Ely; but Rome decided in favour of Hugo de Balsham (1257), the future founder of Peterhouse (1284). In his Letters Marsh’s style is less classical than that of Grosseteste; but the attainments of both of these lecturers to the Oxford Franciscans are warmly eulogised by their pupil Roger Bacon. He mentions them in good company—immediately after Solomon, Aristotle and Avicenna, describing both of them as “perfect in divine and human wisdom.”  74  On the death of Alexander of Hales (1245), Grosseteste was afraid that Adam Marsh would be captured by Paris to fill the vacant chair.  75  His Letters, his only surviving work, give him no special claim to those scholastic qualities of clearness and precision that were possibly indicated in his traditional title of Doctor illustris

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Note 71. Mon. Franc. I, 38. [ back ]Note 72. Mon. Franc., I, 185. [ back ]Note 73. Ib., I, 264. [ back ]Note 74. Opus Tertium, c. 22 f., 25. [ back ]Note 75. Ep. 334. [ back ]

§ 18. Roger Bacon.

Roger Bacon, a native of Ilchester, was the most brilliant representative of the Franciscan order in Oxford. He there attended the lectures of Edmund Rich of Abingdon, who had studied in Paris, who could preach in French and who was possibly himself the French translator of his principal Lating work, the Speculum Ecclesiae. Rich was the first in Roger Bacon’s day to expound the Sophistici Elenchi at Oxford.  76  It was probably under the influence of Grosseteste and Marsh that Bacon entered the Franciscan order, a society which, doubtless, had its attractions for his studious temperament. He is said to have been ordained in 1233. Before 1245 he left Oxford for Pairs. He there distinguished himself as a teacher; but he had little sympathy with the scholasticism of the day, and he accordingly returned to England about 1250.

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  In the order of St. Francis there was room for freedom of thought, no less than for mystic devotion; but, some seven years later, so soon as the party of the mystics was represented in the new general of that body, Bacon fell under suspicion for his liberal opinions, and, by command of the “seraphic” Bonaventura, was sent to Paris and there kept in strict seclusion for ten years (1257-67). He probably owned his partial release to the good-will of Clement IV, who had heard of the studies of the Franciscan friar before his own elevation to the papal see, and, by a letter written at Viterbo on 22 June, 1266, drew him from his obscurity and neglect by pressing him for an account of his researches. Thereupon, in the wonderfully brief space of some eighteen months, the grateful and enthusiastic student wrote three memorable works, the Opus Majus, the Opus Minus and the Opus Tertium (1267). These were followed by his Compendium Studii Philosophiae (1271–2), and by a Greak Grammar of uncertain date. In his Compendium, he had attacked

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the clergy and the monastic orders and the scholastic pedants of the day; and, by a chapter of the Franciscans help in Paris in 1278 he was, on these and, doubtless, other grounds, condemned for “certain suspected novelties” of opinion. Accordingly, he was once more placed under restraint; but he had again been released before writing his Compendium Studii Theologiae (1292). At Oxford he died, and was buried among the Friars Minor, probably in 1294.  Before entering the order, he had written nothing on science; and, after his admission, he came under the rule that no friar should be permitted the use of writing materials, or enjoy the liberty of publishing his work, without the previous approval of his superiors. The penalty was the confiscation of the work, with many days of fasting on bread and water. He had only written a few “chapters on various subjects at the request of his friends.”  77  Possibly, he is here referring to the pages on the secret works of nature and art, on Greek fire, on gunpowder and on the properties, of the magnet,  78  on which he had discoursed in letters addressed either to William of Auvergne (d. 1248), or to John of Basingstoke (d. 1252). He was surrounded with difficulties; he found philosophy and theology neglected in the interests of civil law, and despised under the delusion that the world knew enough of them already. He had spend forty years in the study of the sciences and languages, and during the first twenty years specially devoted by him to the attainment of fuller knowledge (possibly before joining a medicant order), he had expended large sums on his learned pursuits. None would now lend him any money to meet the expense of preparing his works for the pope, and he could not persuade any one that there was the slightest use in science.  79  Thankful, however, for the pope’s interest in his studies, he set to work with enthusiasm and delight, though he was strictly bound by the vow of poverty, and had now nothing of his own to spend on his literary and scientific labours.

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  His principal works, beginning with the three prepared for the pope, are as follows: The Opus Majus, which remained unknown until its publication by Samuel Jebb in 1733. It has since been recognised as the Encyclopèdie and the Organon of the thirteenth century. It is divided into seven parts: (1) the cause of human ignorance; (2) the connection between philosophy and theology; (3) the study of language; (4) mathematical science; (5) physics (especially optics); (6) experimental science; and (7) moral philosophy. The part on language was preserved in an imperfect form; that on moral philosophy was omitted in Jebb’s edition.

  55

  The Opus Minus was first published by John Sherren Brewer in 1859 (with portions of the Opus Tertium and the Compendium Studii Philosophiae). It was written partly to elucidate certain points in the Opus Majus, partly to meet the risk of the earlier treatise failing to reach its destination. It enters more fully into an examination of the schoolmen; it exposes the pretensions of the Franciscan Alexander of Hales, and of an unnamed Dominican. It recapitulates the passages in the previous work which the author deems specially important, and discusses the six great errors that stand in the way of the studies of Latin Christendom, namely (1) the subjection of theology to philosophy; (2) the general ignorance of science; (3) implicit trust in the dicta of the earlier schoolmen; (4) exaggerated respect for the lecturers on the Sentences, in comparison with the expounders of the text of the Scriptures; (5) mistakes in the Vulgate; (6) errors in the spiritural interpretation of Scripture due to ignorance of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, archaeology and natural history, and those due to misunderstanding of the hidden meaning of the Word of God. After a break, there next follows a comparison between the opinions of French and English naturalists on the elementary principles of matter, and, after a second break, an account of the various metals. Only a fragment, equivalent to some 80 pages of print, has been preserved in a single MS. in the Bodleian.

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  The Opus Tertium, though written later, is intended to serve as an introduction to the two previous works. In the first twenty chapters we have an account of the writer’s personal history, his opinions on education, and on the impediments thrown in its way by the ignorance, prejudice, contempt, carelessness and indifference of his contemporaries. He next reverts to points that had been either omitted or inadequately explained in his earlier writings. After a digression on vacuum, motion and space, he dwells on the utility of mathematics, geography, chronology and geometry, adding remarks on accents and aspirates, and on punctuation, metre, and rhythm. A subsequent defence of mathematics, with an excursus on the reform of the calendar, leads to a discourse on chanting and on preaching.

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  The above three works, even in their incomplete form, fill as many as 1344 pages of print. It was these three that were completed in the brief interval of eighteen months.

  58

  The Compendium Studii Philosophiae, imperfectly preserved in a single MS. in the British Museum, begins with reflections on the beauty and utility of wisdom. The impediments to its progress are subsequently considered, and the causes of human error investigated. The author criticises the current Latin grammars and lexicons, and urges the importance of the study of Hebrew, adding as many as thirteen reasons for the study of Greek, followed by an introduction to Greek grammar.

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  The above is only the beginning of an encyclopaedic work on logic, mathematics, physics, metaphysics and ethics. The part on physics is alone preserved, and extracts from that part have been printed.  80 

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  The Greek Grammar may be conveniently placed after the above Compendium, and before the next. The author’s knowledge of Greek was mainly derived from the Greeks of his own day, probably from some of the Greek teachers invited to England by Grosseteste.  81  He invariably adopts the late Byzantine pronunciation; and, in his general treatment of grammar he follows the Byzantine tradition. This work was first published by the Cambridge University Press in 1902.

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  The Compendium Studii Theologiae, Bacon’s latest work, deals with causes of error, and also with logic and grammar in reference to theology. The above parts are extant in an imperfect form, and only extracts from them have been printed from a MS. in the British Museum.  82  A “fifth part,” on optics, is preserved in a nearly complete condition in the same library.

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  Roger Bacon was the earliest of the natural philosophers of western Europe. In opposition to the physicists of Paris, he urged that “enquiry should begin with the simplest objects of science, and rise gradually to the higher and higher,” every observation being controlled by experiment. In science he was at least a century in advance of his time; and, in spite of the long and bitter persecutions that he endured, he was full of hope for the future. He has been described by Diderot as “one of the most surprising geniuses that nature had ever produced, and one of the most unfortunate of men.” He left no disciple. His unknown grave among the tombs of the Friars Minor was marked by no monument; a tower, traditionally known as “Friar Bacon’s Study,” stood, until 1779, on the old Grand Pont (the present Folly Bridge) of Oxford. The fact that he had revived the study of mathematics was recorded by an anonymous writer about 1370.  83  A long passage in his Opus Majus,  84  on the distance between the extreme east and west of the habitable globe, inserted (without mention of its source) in the Imago Mundi of Pierre d’Ailly, was thence quoted by Columbus in 1498 as one of the authorities that had prompted him to venture on his great voyages of discovery. Meanwhile, in popular repute, Friar Bacon was regarded only as an alchemist and a necromancer. During the three centuries subsequent to his dealth, only four of his minor works, those on Alchemy, on the Power of Art and Nature and on the Cure of Old Age, were published in 1485–1590. Like Vergil, he was reputed to have used a “glass prospective” of wondrous power, and, like others in advance of their times, such as Gerbert of Aurillac, Albertus Magnus and Grosseteste, to have constructed a “brazen head” that possessed a faculty of speech. The popular legend was embodied in The Famous Historie of Fryer Bacon, in Greene’s Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (c. 1587)  85  and in Terilo’s satire of 1604. At Frankfurt, the parts of the Opus Majus dealing with mathematics and optics were published in 1614; but a hundred and twenty years passed before a large portion of the remainder was published in England (1733), and the same interval of time preceded the first appearance of the Opera Inedita (1859). The seventh part of the Opus Majus, that on moral philosophy, was not printed until 1897. But the rehabilitation of Roger Bacon, begun by Brewer in 1859, had, happily, meanwhile been independently completed by ´Emile Charles in 1861

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  Friar Bacon is associated in legend with Friar Bungay, or Thomas de Bungay (in Suffolk), who exemplifies the close connection between the Franciscan order and the eastern counties. Bungay lectured to the Franciscans at Oxford, and afterwards at Cambridge, where he was placed at the head of the Franciscan convent. As head of the order in England, he was succeeded (c. 1275) by John Peckham, who had studied at Paris under Bonaventura, had joined the Franciscans at Oxford and was archbishop of Canterbury from 1279 to 1292. At Oxford, a number of grammatical, logical, philosophical and theological doctrines taught by the Dominicans, and already condemned by the Dominican archbishop, Robert Kilwardby (1276), a Master of Arts of Paris, famous as a commentator on Priscian, were condemned once more by the Franciscan archbishop, Peckham (1284). Thomas Aquinas had held, with Aristotle, that the individualising principle was not form but matter—an opinion which was regarded as inconsistent with the medieval theory of the future state. This opinion, disapproved by Kilwardby, was attacked in 1284 by William de la Mare, probably an Englishman, possibly an Oxonian, certainly a Franciscan. Both of them may have owed something to Roger Bacon. They were certainly among the precursors of the type of realism represented by Duns Scotus, the Doctor subtilis.

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Note 76. Comp. Theol. (cp. J.E. Sandys, History of Classical Scholarship, I, 592, ed. 2, 1906). [ back ]Note 77. Opera Inedita, 13. [ back ]Note 78. Ib., 536 f. [ back ]Note 79. Opera Inedita., 16, 59, 65. [ back ]Note 80. Emile Charles, 369–91. [ back ]

Note 81. Comp. Phil. 434. [ back ]Note 82. Emile Charles, 410–6. [ back ]Note 83. Little’s Grey Friars at Oxford, 195 n. [ back ]Note 84. Opus Majus, ed. Bridges, I, xxxiii, 290. [ back ]Note 85. Ed. A. W. Ward (1878), pp. xviii-xxvii. [ back ]

§ 19. Duns Scotus.

John Duns Scotus was a Franciscan in Oxford in 1300. There is no satisfactory evidence as to the place of his birth; a note in a catalogue at Assisi (1381) simply describes him as de provincia Hiberniae.  86  At Oxford he lectured on the Sentences. Late in 1304, he was called to incept as D.D. in Paris, where he probably taught until 1307. Among the scholars from Oxford who attended his lectures was John Canon (fl. 1329), a commentator on Peter Lombard, and on Aristotle’s Physics. Duns Scotus died in 1308, at Cologne, where his tomb in the Franciscan church bears the inscription–Scotia me genuit, Anglia me suscepit, Gallia me docuit, Colonia me tenet.

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  The works ascribed to his pen fill twelve folio volumes in the edition printed at Lyons in 1639. At Oxford, Paris and Cologne he constantly opposed the teaching of Thomas Aquinas, thus founding the philosophical and theological school of the Scotists. But he was stronger in the criticism of the opinions of others than in the construction of a system of his own. While the aim of Aquinas is to bring faith into harmony with reason, Duns Scotus has less confidence in the power of reason; he accordingly enlarges the number of doctrines already recognised as capable of being apprehended by faith alone. In philosophy, his devotion to Aristotle is less exclusive than that of Aquinas, and he adopts many Platonic and Neo-Platonic conceptions. “All created things [he holds] have, besides their form, some species of matter. Not matter, but form, is the individualising principle; the generic and specific characters are modified by the individual peculiarity,” by the haecceitas, or “thisness,”of the thing. “The universal essence is distinct … from the individual peculiarity,” but does not exist apart from it. With the great Dominicans Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, the Franciscan Duns Scotus “agrees in assuming a threefold existence of the universal: it is before all things, as form in the divine mind; in things, as their essence (quidditas); and after things, as the concept formed by mental abstraction.” He claims for the individual a real existence, and he accordingly condemns nominalism.  87 

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  But, even in the ranks of the realists, the extravagant realism of Duns Scotus was followed by a reaction, led by Wyclif, who (for England at least) is at once “the last of the schoolmen” and “the first of the reformers.” Later reformers, such as Tyndale (1530), were joined by the humanists in opposing the subtleties of Scotus. The influence of scholasticism in England ended with 1535, when the idol of the schools was dragged from his pedestal at Oxford and Cambridge, and when one of Thomas Cromwell’s commissioners wrote to his master from Oxford: We have set Dunce in Bocardo, and have utterly banished him Oxford for ever, with all his blynd glosses. … (At New College) wee fownde all the great Quadrant Court full of the leaves of Dunce, the wind blowing them into every corner.  88 

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Note 86. Little, loc. cit. 219 f. Major, Historia Majoris Britanniae (1740), 170 f., makes him a native of Duns, W. of Berwick-on-Tweed. [ back ]Note 87. Ueberweg, History of Philosophy, E. T. I, 453 f. [ back ]Note 88. Layton in Strype’s Ecclesiastical Memorials, Bk. I, ch. XXIX, sub finem [ back ]

§ 20. William of Ockham.

The teaching of Thomas Aquinas was opposed, not only by the Franciscan realist Duns Scotus, but also by another Franciscan, the great nominalist, William of Ockham. Born (c. 1280) in the little village of that name in Surrey, he became a B.D. of Oxford, and incepted as D.D in Paris, where he had a strong influence over the opponent of the papacy, Marsiglio of Padua. He was probably present at the chapter of Perugia

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(1322), and he certainly took a prominent part in the struggle against pope John XXII. He was imprisoned at Avignon for seventeen weeks in 1327, but escaped to Italy and joined the emperor, Lewis of Bavaria, in 1328, accompanying him in 1330 to Bavaria, where he stayed for the greater part of the remainder of his life, as an inmate of the Franciscan convent at Munich (d. 1349). He was known to fame as the Invincible Doctor.  The philosophical and theological writings of his earlier career included commentaries on the logical treatises of Aristotle and Porphyry, a treatise on logic (the Caius College MS. of which concludes with a rude portrait of the author), as well as Quaestiones on the Physics of Aristotle and on the Sentences of Peter Lombard; the first bok of his questions on the latter having been probably completed before he left Oxford. In the edition of 1495 his work on the Sentences is followed by his Centilogium theologicum. The political writings of the last eighteen years of his life include the Opus nonaginta dierum (c. 1330–3), and the Dialogue between the master and the disciple on the power of the emperor and the pope (1333–43).

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  The philosophical school which he founded is nearly indifferent to the doctrines of the church, but does not deny the church’s authority. While Scotus had reduced the number of doctrines demonstrable by pure reason, Ockham declared that such doctrines only existed as articles of faith. He opposes the real existence of universals, founding his negation of realism on his favourite principle that “entities must not be unnecessarily multiplied.” Realism, which had been shaken, more than two centuries before, by Roscellinus, was, to all appearance, shattered by William of Ockham, who is the last of the great schoolmen.

§ 21. Walter Burleigh.

An intermediate position between the realism of Duns Scotus and the nominalism of William of Ockham was assumed by a pupil of the former and a fellow-student of the latter named Walter Burleigh, who studied at Paris and taught at Oxford. He was the first in modern times who attempted to write a history of ancient philosophy. He knew no Greek, but he, nevertheless, wrote 130 treatises on Aristotle alone, dedicating his commentary on the Ethics and Politics to Richard of Bury.

§ 22. Scholars of Oxford: John Baconthorpe.

Among the opponents of the mendicant orders at Oxford, about 1321, was a scholar of Paris and Oxford and a precursor of Wyclif, named John Baconthorpe (d. 1346), a man of exceedingly diminutive stature, who is known as the Resolute Doctor, and as the great glory of the Carmelites. A voluminous writer of theological and scholastic treatises (including commentaries on Aristotle), he was long regarded as the prince of the Averroists, and nearly three centuries after his death his works were still studied in Padua.

§ 23. Thomas Bradwardine.

Scholasticism survived in the person of Thomas Bradwardine, who was consecrated archbishop of Canterbury shortly before his death in 1349. Educated at Merton College, Oxford, he expanded his college lectures on theology into a treatise that gained him the title of Doctor profundus. He is respectfully mentioned by Chaucer in company with St. Augustine and Boëthius:

       But I ne can not bulte it to the bren,As can the holy doctour Augustyn,Or Boë ece, or the bishop of Bradwardyn.  89 

In the favourable opinion of his editor, Sir Henry Savile (1618), he derived his philosophy from Aristotle and Plato. His pages abound with quotations from Seneca, Ptolemy, Boëthius and Cassiodorus; but there is reason to believe that all his learning was gleaned from the library of his friend Richard of Bury, to whom he was chaplain in 1335.

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Note 89. Canterbury Tales, 15, 248. [ back ]

§ 24. Richard of Bury.

Richard of Bury was the son of Sir Richard Aungerville. Born within sight of the Benedictine abbey of Bury St. Edmunds, he is sometimes said to have subsequently entered the Benedictine convent at Durham. In the meantime, he had certainly distinguished himself in philosophy and theology at Oxford. From his academic studies he was called to be the tutor to prince Edward, the future king Edward III. The literary interests with which he inspired the prince may well have led to Edward’s patronage of Chaucer and of Froissart. In 1330 and 1333, he was sent as envoy to the pope at Avignon; and it was in recognition of these diplomatic services that he was made dean of Wells, and bishop of Durham.

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  He lives in literature as the author of the Philobiblon, which was completed on his 58th birthday, 24 January, 1345; and, in the same year, on 14 April, at his manor of Auckland, Dominus Ricardus de Bury migravit ad Dominum. In seven of the thirty-five manuscripts of the Philobiblon it is ascribed to Robert Holkot, the Dominican (d. 1349). But the evidence is inconclusive and the style of Holkot’s Moralitates is different from that of the Philobiblon. Holkot, who was one of the bishop’s chaplains, may well have acted as his amanuensis during the last year of his life, and have thus been wrongly credited with having “composed” or “compiled” the work. The distinctly autobiographical character of the volume is in favour of its having been written by Richard of Bury himself.

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  The author of the Philobiblon is more of a bibliophile than a scholar. He has only the slightest knowledge of Greek; but he is fully conscious of the debt of the language of Rome to that of Greece, and he longs to remedy the prevailing ignorance by supplying students with grammars of Greek as well as Hebrew. His library is not limited to works on theology; he places liberal studies above the study of law, and sanctions the reading of the poets. His love of letters breathes in every page of his works. He prefers manuscripts to money, and even “slender pamphlets  90  to pampered palfreys.” He confesses with a charming candour: “We are reported to burn with such a desire for books, and especially old ones, that it was more easy for any man to gain our favour by means of books than by means of money”; but “justice,” he hastens to assure us, “suffered no detriment.”  91  In inditing this passage, he doubtless remembered that an abbot of St. Albans 92  once ingratiated himself with the future bishop of Durham by presenting him with four volumes from the abbey library, besides selling him thirty volumes from the same collection, including a large folio MS. of the works of John of Salisbury, which is now in the British Museum.

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  In the old monastic libraries, Richard of Bury, like Boccaccio at Monte Cassino, not unfrequently lighted on manuscripts lying in a wretched state of neglect, murium foetibus cooperti et vermium morsibus terebrati.  93  But in those of the new mendicant orders he often “found heaped up, amid the utmost poverty, the utmost riches of wisdom.”  94  He looks back with regret on the ages when the monks used to copy manuscripts “between the hours of prayer.”  95  He also presents us with a vivid picture of his own eagerness in collecting books with the aid of the stationarii and librarii of France, Germany and Italy. For some of his purchases he sends to Rome, while he dwells with rapture on his visits to Paris, “the paradise of the world,” “where the days seemed ever few for the greatness of our love. There are the delightful libraries, more aromatic than stores of spicery; there, the verdant pleasure-gardens of all varieties of volumes.”  96  He adds that, in his own manors, he always employed a large number of copyists, as well as binders and illuminators  97 ; and he pays an eloquent tribute to his beloved books: Truth, that triumphs over all things, seems to endure more usefully, and to fructify with greater profit in books. The meaning of the voice perishes with the sound; truth latent in the mind is only a hidden wisdom, a buried treasure; but truth that shines forth from books is eager to manifest itself to all our senses. It commends itself to the sight, when it is read; to the hearing when it is heard; and even to the touch, when it suffers itself to be transcribed, bound, corrected, and preserved.… What pleasantness of teaching there is in books, how easy, how secret. How safely and how frankly do we disclose to books our human poverty of mind. They are masters who instruct us without rod or ferule.… If you approach them, they are not asleep; if you inquire of them, they do not withdraw themselves; they never chide, when you make mistakes; they never laugh, if you are ignorant  98 

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  Towards the close, he confides to us the fact that he had “long cherished the fixed resolve of founding in perpetual charity a hall in the revered university of Oxford, the chief nursing-mother of all liberal arts, and of endowing it with the necessary revenues for the maintenance of a number of scholars, and, moreover, to furnish the hall with the treasures of our books.”  99  He gives rules for the management of the library, rules

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founded in part on those adopted in Paris for the library of the Sorbonne. He contemplated the permanent endowment of the Benedictine house of Durham College in the university of Oxford, and bequeathed to that college the precious volumes he had collected at Bishop Auckland. The ancient monastic house was dissolved, and Trinity College rose on its ruins; but the library built to contain the bishop’s books still remains, though the books are lost, and even the catalogue has vanished. His tomb in Durham cathedral, marked by “a faire marble stone, whereon his owne ymage was most curiously and artificially ingraven in brass  100 ” has been, unfortunately, destroyed; but he lives in literature as the author of the Philobiblon, his sole surviving memorial. One, who was inspired with the same love of books, has justly said of the author–“His fame will never die.”  101   Like the early humanists of Italy, he was one of the new literary fraternity of Europe–men who foresaw the possibilities of learning, and were eager to encourage it. On the first of his missions to the pope at Avignon he had met Petrarch, who describes him as vir ardentis ingenii, nec litterarum inscius; he adds that he had absolutely failed to interest the Englishman in determining the site of the ancient Thule.  102  But they were kindred spirits at heart. For, in the same vein as Richard of Bury, Petrarch tells his brother, that he “cannot be sated with books”; that, in comparison with books, even gold and silver, gems and purple, marble halls and richly caparisoned steeds, only afford a superficial delight; and, finally, he urges that brother to find trusty men to search for manuscripts in Italy, even as he himself had sent like messages to his friends in Spain and France and England.  103 

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  In the course of this brief survey, we have noticed, during the early part of the twelfth century, the revival of intellectual interests in the age of Abelard, which resulted in the birth of the university of Paris. We have watched the first faint traces of the spirit of humanism in the days when John of Salisbury was studying Latin literature in the classic calm of Chartres. Two centuries later, Richard of Bury marks for England the time of transition between the scholastic era and the revival of learning. The Oxford of his day was still the “beautiful city, spreading her gardens to the moonlight, and whispering from her towers the last enchantments of the Middle Age.” “Then flash’d a yellow gleam across the world.” Few, if any, in our western islands thought to themselves, “the sun is rising”; though in another land, the land of Petrarch, moonlight had already faded away–“the sun had risen.”

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Note 90. §123 (the earliest known example of the word), panfletos exiguos. [ back ]Note 91. §119, 122 [ back ]Note 92. Gesta Abbatum, II, 200. [ back ]Note 93. §120. [ back ]Note 94. §135. [ back ]Note 95. §74. [ back ]Note 96. §126. [ back ]Note 97. §143. [ back ]Note 98. §23, 26. [ back ]Note 99. §232. [ back ]Note 100. Description of Monuments (1593), Surtees Society, p. 2. [ back ]Note 101. Dibdin’s Reminiscences, 1, 86 n. [ back ]Note 102. Epp. Fam., III, I. [ back ]Note 103. Epp. Fam., III, 18. [ back ]